A World Apart
by lolagirl
Summary: Draco Malfoy is visited by Hermione Granger in the middle of the night. But how is this possible? She's been dead for two months now... NOT a ghost story. DHr.
1. Gone

**Author's Note:** Okay, so…I started writing this fic about halfway through my last one. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. Now I'm not so sure. But I thought I would upload it anyway, to see if anyone would be interested in it. I think it might end up being a little too confusing, and maybe a little too weird, and I'll probably end up being too lazy to continue with it - which is a shame, because I already have so much of the plot planned out. I know the summary really sucks, but for right now, I cannot come up with one that doesn't just give the whole plot away. So hopefully, you'll bear with me.

Just to let everyone know, this will be D/Hr...kinda. You'll see what I mean. And the Draco in this story won't be too much of a softie, for anyone who is worried. :P

But anyway, please tell me what you think. Is it good? Bad? So-so? Really stupid? Really, _really_ stupid? You can be honest. :D

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter, and I never will.

* * *

"It's funny," she said, smiling at nothing in particular.

"_What's_ funny?" he asked. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He only did this so that he would have an excuse to brush up against the soft, smooth skin of her face as he pulled his hand away. It didn't matter that the amount of contact was miniscule; he could still feel electricity running through his veins whenever he touched her.

She snuggled closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. She grabbed his hand; when she did so, that electricity he had felt a moment ago multiplied itself by a thousand. It was almost too much for him to handle, but somehow he managed to keep his cool. Somehow, he managed not to throw the girl beside him onto the ground and do things to her that would make even _him_ blush.

"_Life_ is funny," she finally answered.

He arched his eyebrow at her. "Is that so? And just how is life _funny_?"

"Well," she said, a devious grin forming on her face. "Take _our_ lives, for instance. You and I come from completely different worlds. Who would have ever thought that we would be here right now, having this conversation?"

He chuckled. "This isn't so far-fetched, you know. Why _wouldn't_ we be having this conversation right now? Or any _other_ conversation for that matter? We may have _come_ from different worlds, but we both live in _this_ one right now. That is all that matters."

"I suppose," she said. She smiled warmly at him. For a moment, they remained staring into each other's eyes. And then, as always, she said sadly, "I have to go."

His face fell at her words. "No," he said firmly. "You don't have to. Not this time."

She nodded sadly. "Yes, this time. _Every_ time."

"But you just got here," he protested. "But we just -"

"Shh," she said, silencing him with one single finger over his lips. "You have to let me go."

"No I don't," he said simply. "I can't."

"You _can_, you just choose _not_ to," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "You are so stubborn. You always were."

"_I'm_ stubborn?" he cried. "Well what about _you_? You are the one who keeps leaving and refuses to stay! It's not fair!"

"That's another funny thing about life," she mumbled. "It's never fair. Even when you think it ought to be, it slaps you in the face and reminds you that you have absolutely no control over anything that happens."

He frowned at her. "That's depressing."

"It really is," she agreed. Slowly, a smile began to return to her lips. She took her hand and placed it on the side of his face. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Her touch had magical powers – it was always able to lull him into a false sense of security.

While the touch of her hand soothed him, the feel of her lips against his drove him absolutely wild. She knew this, of course, that's why she was kissing him now. That's why she _always_ kissed him at this very moment – she needed to distract him from the fact that in a moment, she would be gone. Again.

He clung to her tightly, with more strength than usual. He couldn't bear to lose her again. So he kissed her with all of his might, and pulled her so closely to him that it seemed impossible that they were actually two separate bodies.

When the kiss ended and she backed away, he kept his eyes shut. He didn't want to open them. He knew what he would see if he did.

But as always, there was something inside of him that was forcing him to look. As always, his eyes flew open to view the horror that stood before him.

As he stood helplessly and watched, a long, deep gash suddenly formed on her neck, and now the girl he loved was dying. He didn't cry out or try to save her; not because he couldn't, or because he didn't want to, but because he knew there would be no point. Nothing could save her now.

She stared at him in shock. He wasn't really sure why; she must have known this was coming. It always came. As usual, she touched the wound delicately, and then held her hand out in front of her face. She stared indifferently at the blood that now stained her fingers. Her gaze shifted over to his. "I didn't feel a thing," she assured him; her voice filled with such sadness that it broke his heart into a million different pieces.

And then, she was gone.

* * *

Draco Malfoy woke with a start. He gasped for breath as his eyes searched his room blindly. He was in bed, and it appeared as though he had just woken from a bad dream - the same one he'd been having for the last two months. He waited until his racing pulse had returned to normal before getting up; he suddenly wasn't so tired anymore.

He proceeded to follow through with the same old routine: every time he had this dream, he would wake up, get out of bed, grab his wand, mumble "Lumos" and exit to the common room. From there, he would walk over to the Head Girl's room and pause at the door, listening. Of course, he would never hear anything. Sometimes, he would stop at the door, then leave after a minute of softly banging his head up against it. But this time, he placed his hand on the knob and turned it.

Her room looked the exact same way it had two months ago. Her bed was neatly made and topped off with a couple of frilly pillows and a teddy bear. On her nightstand were a few framed pictures of her and the other two members of The Golden Trio. In each picture, they were smiling and laughing, and occasionally she would roll her eyes at her redheaded friend who was partial to making faces. Draco scowled down at the picture and wondered if she ever glanced down at the picture herself and noticed the way her scarfaced friend was looking at her – as if she were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

_Well I'll be damned_, he thought bitterly. _Potter probably did love her after all_. He grunted and placed the frame back onto the table. He picked up another one, similar to the one he had just set down. So many of the pictures scattered all over her room were of _them_; only a few were of her and the Weaslette, or of her and some other random Gryffindor classmate. He guessed the framed picture that sat directly in the middle of them all was of her parents. He figured this mainly because it was the only picture not moving. In other words, it had been taken with a Muggle camera and developed the traditional Muggle way. Draco sighed. She had so many pictures scattered everywhere, of so many people who were near and dear to her heart. It was no surprise to see that there was no picture of _him_ anywhere, but it still hurt nevertheless.

He sat down on her bed, picked up the stupid teddy bear and scoffed. A grown girl with a teddy bear. He would've loved to have known she'd had this; he could have made fun of her for it. She had probably slept with it every night, pretending it was Boy Wonder she was holding in her arms. At this thought, Draco threw the teddy bear across the room as hard as he could. It slammed up against her dresser; the force of it knocking one of her precious framed pictures onto the floor, shattering the glass. Feeling guilty about his sudden fit of anger, he picked the picture up from the floor. Despite the fall, The Golden Trio was still smiling and laughing and acting as though they did not have a care in the world.

"Damn you, Granger," he spat. He could have sworn that when he spoke, the girl in the picture looked directly at him. The greatest thing about pictures being developed by magic was that the scene would continue to move for eternity. So even if the girl in the picture was gone, you could always remember the way she looked when she smiled and blinked and gave an exasperated look. You could always remember the way she looked when she was looking at _you._

"Stupid mudblood," he said to the picture. "Stupid, bushy-headed, buck-toothed bookworm." He let out a sound that was a mix between a sob and a laugh as he gently placed the frame back where it belonged, muttering a cleaning spell to get rid of the shards of glass. He picked up the bear and held it out in front of him.

"So you're the lucky git who got to spend every night in bed with her," he said, chuckling. He sat back down on her bed, placing the bear in the exact same spot it had been moments before. He was ashamed of himself. He had come into her room in the middle of the night and practically desecrated it. She would have greatly disapproved of his behavior. She most likely would have scolded him for it, and then continued to lecture him about respecting other people's things.

Damn, he missed her so much.

The most wonderful thing about having living quarters to himself was that he could sit here, like he was now, and succumb to the emotions that racked his entire body. He had been taught growing up to bottle up all of his feelings and to never show the world his weaknesses. But alone in Hermione Granger's bedroom, where everything reminded him of her, those feelings were too strong to keep inside. He felt that if he were to keep them hidden away, his heart would explode in his chest.

So he sat there and for the first time, he cried.

Hours later he woke up lying on her bed, her teddy bear in his arms. If only the Slytherins could see him now – they'd probably sell this story to the Daily Prophet. He could just picture the headline in his head: _DRACO MALFOY SLEEPS WITH STUFFIES – Slytherins everywhere cringe. _This thought gave him a slight chuckle – which was quite welcome, given the night he'd had.

Glancing down at the ray of sunlight that was peeking through the curtains and shining across the bed, Draco groaned. It was morning already - meaning it was time to start a brand new day…though today would be the same as it was _every_ day. Things still hadn't quite gotten back to normal yet, despite the fact it had been two whole months. Potter and the two Weasleys managed to drag themselves to classes everyday, though just barely. And even a few of the Professors were still having a hard time. They would be in the middle of a lesson, take one look at the empty chair in the classroom, and they would just pause – trying so hard to hide the pained expressions on their faces, so that the students didn't know what they were thinking, or who they were thinking _about._

But Draco knew. And for once in his life, he could relate to them all.

Meanwhile, Draco himself had a hard time making it through the day. He rarely ever paid attention in class, and his grades had started dropping considerably – so much so, he was surprised they hadn't replaced him as Head Boy yet. Actually, it wasn't as surprising as it should have been. After all, they were already missing a Head Girl (in two whole months, no one had even _attempted_ to give any other female student the title). Appointing a new student as Head Boy this well into the year, after everything that had happened, would probably not be advisable. Besides, there weren't too many other students who were qualified for the position – except for, of course, Harry Potter, who would most likely turn the offer down, for obvious reasons.

So lucky Draco had nothing to worry about. He could probably do anything short of burning down the school, and he would not lose his Head Boy badge. How wonderful for him. He'd get to stay in this luxury suite. Alone. Without a Head Girl by his side.

Placing the teddy bear back onto the bed, exactly where he'd found it, Draco mustered up all the energy he could to leave the room and get ready to start the day.

He left her room without looking back and proceeded to get ready for classes. He still felt ashamed of the way he'd been acting last night, and he wanted to try and forget about it for right now. Like every other day for the past two months, he told himself that today was going to be different. Today, he was going to put everything behind him and move on. And like every other day, he knew he was lying - because today was different. It had been exactly two months ago today that his world had been torn apart and ripped to shreds...exactly two months ago today that the only important thing in his life had been violently taken away from him.

It had been exactly two months ago today that Hermione Granger died.

* * *

A/N - Oh, but don't worry. Hermione will be in the story plenty. ;)  



	2. Living Arrangements

**Author's Note:** Okay, so in order to tell this story the right way, I'm going to have to write a few flashbacks. There will probably be one in every chapter for a while. These flashbacks, hopefully, will provide answers to some questions you might have. So of course, everytime you see a date at the beginning of a new chapter, or after a page-break, it's a flashback. No date means it's present day. But I'm sure you all could have figured that out yourselves. I just like writing really long author's notes. :D

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Hell, I don't even own a cell phone. Seriously.

* * *

**_September 1st_**

They stood across from each other, engaged in a staring contest that neither one seemed to want to lose. Their glares were so intense that it really was a good thing that looks _couldn't_ kill.

Professor Minerva McGonagall couldn't have felt more uncomfortable than she did at that very moment. Of course, it's not like she hadn't expected this. After all, how would _she_ feel if she'd just been informed that she would have to spend the next ten months living with her worst enemy? She imagined she'd be feeling the same way Hermione Granger was right then.

"So," McGonagall said, clearing her throat. Neither student so much as flinched at the sound of her voice. "Now that you've gotten the tour of your new living quarters, do either of you have any questions?"

"Yes," the blonde Slytherin said through clenched teeth. "Will I get expelled if I _accidentally_ murder my roommate?"

The bushy-haired girl in front of him scowled. Professor McGonagall, however, just gave a sigh of annoyance.

"Do not make us regret putting you two together, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall scolded him. "You are Head Boy now. And Miss Granger is Head Girl. This is an honor for both of you, and I advise you to forget about your differences if you plan to make it through the school year. As Heads of the school, you are expected to set a good example for the other students – and that does not include, as you put it, _murdering_ your roommate. Is that clear?"

"It's very clear, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said sweetly.

"She was talking to _me_, mudblood," Draco growled.

"Enough!" McGonagall yelled. She had put up with their bickering the whole way from her office to their common room, and now she was experiencing a splitting headache. "Mr. Malfoy, you can either apologize to Miss Granger for using that foul language, or you can say goodbye to your Head Boy badge. It's not too late for us to choose another student, you know."

Draco glared first at his teacher, then at that thing some people called a _girl _in front of him. A Malfoy apologizing to a lowly mudblood was about as common as…well, about as common as the least common thing he could think of. But he sure didn't want to lose his role as Head Boy before he'd even had a chance to enjoy it – especially not when he'd seen what his bedroom looked like. So he took a deep breath and said, "Fine. _Granger_, I'm sorry for calling you a mudblood." He hoped McGonagall could not hear the insincerity of his voice.

If she did, she chose to ignore it. Draco figured the woman had had enough of these two for one day, and just wanted to get away as quickly as she could. "Very well," she said. "Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, it's going to be an exciting year for the both of you, and I have all the faith in the world that you two will make great leaders. Now, I'll let you get settled in here. Meet me after the feast tonight, so we can go over your duties with the prefects."

Hermione nodded in response; Draco just grunted and dropped down onto the couch with a _thud_. Professor McGonagall accepted both of their responses and hastily left the room.

Once she was gone and they were all alone, Draco jumped up from the couch, got as close to Hermione as he could without actually touching her and said, "Okay, mudblood, it's time to make some rules around here."

Hermione drew in a sharp breath at the word "mudblood". Obviously, Draco had not taken McGonagall's threat seriously. Or, he just figured he could get away with it once they were no longer under her disapproving glare. "_Rules_? Oh, this ought to be good," she said, her voice thick with sarcasm.

Draco took one step back and said, "Rule number one: my bedroom is off limits to you."

Hermione snorted. "As if I would ever want to enter your bedroom, Malfoy. I might catch some sort of venereal disease brought in by one of the many Slytherin whores I'm sure you're planning on dragging in there."

She flinched slightly after finishing the sentence, as if she was afraid Draco would strike her. But amazingly enough, Draco chose to ignore the comment and continue.

"Rule number 2: when I have a guest over, you make yourself scarce. I don't want your filth around, stinking the place up for my guests."

"How thoughtful of you," Hermione said, again with the sarcasm. "Once again, that's something you're never going to have to worry about. I don't exactly _enjoy_ being in the presence of your 'guests', anyway. In fact, I'd rather throw myself off the Astronomy Tower than to stay in here and hang out with you and your friends."

"Is that so? Well I'll just have to invite you to hang out with us sometime." Draco smirked.

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her foot against the floor. "Well both of those rules are the same for you, you know. I don't want you within fifteen feet of my bedroom at any given time. And if _I_ have _my_ friends over, I expect _you_ to leave."

"Oh, it would be my pleasure, Granger. You say you'd rather jump off the Astronomy Tower than hang out with my friends? Well _I _would rather chop off my fingers one by one and set myself on fire than hang out with _yours_."

Hermione couldn't help but smile. "Well then, that's settled." She held out her hand to shake on it.

Draco looked at her as if she'd gone insane. He scoffed. "Yeah, right. Like I'm going to touch _you_. Dream on, Granger."

"Ugh. Why do you always have to be such an insufferable git?"

"Why do _you_ always have to be such a -"

"Hermione!"

The muffled sound of her name being called must have been a great relief to her. But to Draco, it made him want to gauge out his eyes. Scarface had arrived.

"Harry!" Hermione cried. She rushed as quickly as she could over to the portrait hole and threw open the door.

Harry bloody Potter stood on the other side of the entrance, looking like his normal superhero self. His unruly black hair (desperately in need of a trim) stuck out every which way from the top of his head, currently hiding that famous lightning bolt scar all the girls seemed to go gaga for. A big, goofy grin was plastered on his face as he stood there staring at the bushy-haired girl in front of him. Oh, how sweet.

"Hello, Hermione." Harry glanced over her shoulder at Draco and his expression immediately darkened. "May I come in?"

"Of course!" she said, her voice full of glee.

Draco was beginning to feel a little queasy.

Harry sauntered into the room, looking around in awe. "Wow," he breathed. "So this is where you're going to be living all year?"

Hermione nodded. "Isn't it wonderful? Wait until you see my bedroom!"

"I'll bet you can't _wait_ to show him _that_," Draco mumbled.

Harry glared over at him and said, "What's _that_ supposed to mean, Malfoy?"

Draco sighed. "It means whatever you want it to mean, Scarhead. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go unpack."

He left the two friends alone and headed for his bedroom. However, once he got to the door, he stopped to listen to their conversation.

"I came to see how you were doing with…well, with _him_," Harry said. "I was worried about you."

"That's really sweet, Harry, but I'm fine. I can handle him."

"Can you?" Harry asked. "I can't believe they would put you two together, knowing your history."

"Harry," Hermione said, "they wouldn't have put us together if they didn't think we could handle it. They must have chosen us for a good reason. I have faith in their decision. Besides…I'm Head Girl! This has been my dream for nearly seven years now, and it's come true! I honestly couldn't care less _who_ the Head Boy is. Although…" Her voice trailed off. "I really wish _you_ had been Head Boy."

Oh, for Merlin's sake. Draco had heard enough. If he continued to eavesdrop on their conversation, he was going to lose all the food he'd eaten so far that day right there, in front of his bedroom door. Yet…he just couldn't bring himself to stop listening.

"Yeah, well…I guess they figured I'd have more than enough to contend with this year. You know, in case Voldemort shows up again."

"Right," Hermione said. "I suppose. That was smart of them."

"But not so smart of them to put you with _Malfoy_. I should have a talk with Dumbledore -"

"Oh, Harry, don't be silly! It's not as if you'd be able to change his mind. Besides, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

Harry paused for a moment before saying softly, "I know, Hermione. I just worry about you. I'm going to have to come around everyday to see if you're okay, you know."

"Ah, well, I don't have a problem with _that_," Hermione said, suddenly sounding perkier.

Draco chose this moment to re-enter the common room. "Hey Potter, why don't you leave? Let Granger here unpack her stuff before dinner."

Harry glowered over at him, then looked at Hermione. He must have realized that Draco's suggestion was a good one, because he said, "Ron and I will meet up with you after the feast?"

"Sorry, no can do," Draco spoke up first.

"I was asking _Hermione_," Harry said through clenched teeth.

"He's right, Harry," Hermione said softly. "I can't. Malfoy and I have to meet with McGonagall and the other prefects after the feast. But I'll be seeing you guys bright and early tomorrow morning for classes, and we can hang out afterward."

Though Harry seemed to be listening to Hermione, he was glaring at Draco the whole time. "Fine," he said. He placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Take care of yourself."

"Don't worry, Potter. She's safe with _me_," Draco said with a smirk.

Harry scoffed. He took a step closer to Draco and clenched his fists at his side. "If you do _anything_ to Hermione -"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know – I'll regret it. I'm real scared. See?" Draco held out his hand in front of him and shook it violently. "Now, weren't you just leaving?"

"I'll talk to you later, Hermione," Harry mumbled as he brushed past Draco, knocking into him in the process. He didn't even look back at her before he left.

"Bye, Harry!" she called out after him. When she received no response, she frowned slightly.

Draco's smirk widened. "So, Granger. How long?"

Hermione tore her gaze away from the portrait hole. "How long _what_?"

"How long have you been in love with Potter?"

Hermione's jaw dropped. "W-what? I have no idea what you're talking about!" Her tone of voice was defensive.

Draco chuckled. "Right. I couldn't help but overhear part of your conversation just now. _Oh, Harry,_" he said, imitating her voice, "_how I wish YOU had been Head Boy instead of that evil git Malfoy! You're so sexy, want to shag?"_

"I did not…!" Hermione's face turned beet read. Draco couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment, or from anger. He decided on anger when she reached out suddenly to hit him.

Fortunately for him, Draco had sharp reflexes; he managed to grab her wrist before she made contact with him. And instead of letting go of her immediately, he tightened his grip and pulled her closer to him so they were practically face-to-face.

"Tell me, Granger," Draco said in a low, dangerous voice, "when you lie awake in bed every night thinking about Harry Potter, do you touch yourself?"

Draco took immense pleasure in the reaction his question evoked from the girl in front of him: first, her eyes widened in shock. Then, her plain features crumpled into an expression of disgust. Then, she seemed to have developed super-human strength and pushed him away as hard as she could, breaking his grasp from her and making him stumble back a couple of feet. He was actually quite impressed.

Once he had steadied himself, he laughed. "I take that as a _yes_."

"UGH!" she screamed. "You disgusting _pig_!"

"Oh come on, Granger. You can honestly tell me that you've never thought of Potter like that?"

"No!" she cried. "I mean, _yes_, I can honestly say that! I've never -"

"Aw, too bad I don't believe you. Mudblood is in love with Boy Wonder. This is great." He chuckled.

"I'm _not_ in love with Harry!"

"Whatever, Granger." Draco picked up a bag he had left beside the couch. "You can keep saying that until you're blue in the face, but I'm not going to buy it. Now go unpack. _The Head Boy and Girl need to set a good example for the other students_ – starting with arriving to dinner on time."

Whistling, he headed back to his room.

"I _hate_ you, Malfoy!" Hermione called out after him.

"The feeling, my dear mudblood, is mutual."

Oh, how he loved to rile up the mudblood. It was just too easy! He slipped into his bedroom and threw his bag onto the bed. Before closing his door, he could have sworn he'd heard her mutter, "This is going to be a long year."

* * *

Draco stared out the classroom window at the falling snow. This seemed to be all he ever did in class anymore – stare blankly into space as each of his professors droned on and on about their individual subjects. Transfiguration, Potions, Divination – they were all the same as far as he was concerned. 

The snow was falling so hard that all he could see out the window was _white_ – as if nothing existed outside of these classroom walls but a vast, empty white space…

"Mr. Malfoy."

A voice from the front of the room broke him out of his reverie. His first thought was that Professor McGonagall was calling on him to answer a question – one that, of course, he had not heard, due to the fact he had not been paying attention.

But when he shifted his gaze away from the window, he saw that he was the only student left in the room.

"Class is over, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said with a hint of concern in her voice.

Draco felt like an idiot. He cleared his throat and mumbled, "Sorry," and began to pack up his things.

"Are you feeling okay? I couldn't help but notice you were not paying attention in class today. Or, for that matter, _yesterday_." McGonagall leaned up against the front of her desk. "And now that I think about it, you've been acting this way for some time now. Does this have anything to do with your father?" She said the last part with a bit of hesitation.

This angered Draco. Not because she'd brought up the subject of his father, but because how daft could the woman _be_? If she'd been paying any attention at all, she would have noticed that his lack of academic interest had begun to dissipate about only two months ago.

"No," he said curtly. He finished stashing his books into his bag and stood up "This has nothing to do with my father. He died over a year ago. I'm over it."

And he really _was_. He'd loved his father, but Draco had had no trouble dealing with the grief after Lucius Malfoy had died at the hands of Lord Voldemort at the beginning of his sixth year. His father had been controlling and demanding, and he had probably deserved to be killed. Draco knew that was a horrible thing to think about his father, but it was true. His father had done some terrible, evil things in his day. He certainly was not an innocent victim, and the fact that he had been killed by the man he worshipped…well, his father knew what he'd been getting into…and who he was dealing with – and he had _chosen_ to go down that path…the path that led to his demise. Draco could mourn the loss of his father, but he could not feel _remorse_ for his father. Not like he could Hermione.

There she was, creeping into his thoughts again. How many times a day did she manage to do that? He lost count everyday.

"Well, then what is bothering you?" McGonagall asked.

"Nothing," Draco lied. "Honestly, I'm fine."

McGonagall shook her head. "You are not fine, Mr. Malfoy…_Draco_. You come to class everyday looking like you barely got any sleep. You seem to have distanced yourself from your friends. Your grades have been slipping, and so have your duties as Head Boy. I've been informed that you've been _bribing_ prefects to perform your duties _for_ you."

Draco tried his best not to look guilty. "Those accusations are unfounded, Professor."

"Unfounded? I ran into a prefect last night, as a matter of fact. He was patrolling the hallways – a job _you_ were supposed to be doing last night. Upon interrogation, he admitted that you had _paid _him to take over your duties for the night. What, may I ask, were you doing that was more important than your Head Boy duties?"

_The same thing I do every night_, Draco thought. _Sitting alone in my common room, wanting to die._ "Does it really matter what I was doing?"

Professor McGonagall considered this for a moment. "I suppose not. What matters is that you've not been doing the jobs you've been assigned. This is hardly the way a Head Boy should be behaving. The Heads of the school are supposed to set examples for the other students." She sighed. "Mr. Malfoy, I do not want to have to strip you of your badge – especially this late in the year. And especially after…well, after everything that has happened. You are a smart young man. We chose you as Head Boy for a reason. I know you can be an exemplary leader for these students, you just need to try a little harder. Can you do that?"

Draco gritted his teeth and nodded. "Yes, ma'am." Without so much as another word, Draco headed for the classroom door, but Professor McGonagall called him back.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said, "before you leave, there is something else we need to discuss."

Draco stopped a mere inches from the door. What else could there possibly be for them to discuss? He turned around.

"Why don't you take a seat." McGonagall motioned to one of the desks in the front of the room.

A discussion that required he sit down did not sound like a discussion he wanted to have. "What's this about?" he asked, doing as she asked.

For a moment, the professor before him stood silent; her lips pursed together; the expression on her face indicating that maybe she didn't want to say whatever it was she was going to say. "Professor Dumbledore and I have begun considering other girls for the Head Girl position."

"WHAT?" Draco exploded. He realized his outburst might have taken her by surprise. Surely she hadn't been expecting him to react that way to this piece of news. "You can't do that."

"We certainly can," McGonagall said. "It's been almost two months now since -"

"Two months _exactly_," he corrected her. "Two months today."

Professor McGonagall seemed taken-aback. "Right. It's been two months today. Meaning the school has been without a Head Girl for exactly two months. We're going to have to find a replacement _somet_ime."

"No one can replace her," Draco mumbled.

"Listen, I understand that you've probably gotten used to having that place all to yourself, but -"

"It has nothing to do with that!" Draco snapped. He couldn't believe she would even assume that would be the reason he didn't want another Head Girl – because he wanted a common room all to himself. But then, why _wouldn't_ she assume that? "I just think…maybe we shouldn't have another Head Girl this year."

"Why on earth _not_?" McGonagall demanded. "We need one right now more than ever. Especially since our Head Boy is slacking in his duties…"

"I'm sorry," Draco said. "Okay? I'm sorry I've been slacking. I'm sorry I've been doing everything wrong, but please…_please_ don't appoint another Head Girl. I promise I'll be a better role model for the other students. I promise I'll start doing all of my duties again. I can do this alone, I swear. With the help of all the prefects and everything, we don't _need_ another Head Girl."

If Professor McGonagall had known any better, she could have sworn Draco Malfoy was _begging_. "Mr. Malfoy," she said softly. "I'm sorry, too. But it's been two months now. We've put this off long enough. If we don't appoint another Head Girl, we're just allowing things to remain the way they were since Miss Granger…well, since she died. It's not healthy. We all need to move on, and we can start by doing this. I'm sorry if that is not what you want. But it's what needs to be done. There is no discussion about it. If you'd like, you may give us your input on who you would like as Head Girl, and we will certainly take it into consideration."

Draco scowled at her. "I honestly don't give a fuck who you choose as Head Girl," he said, standing up from the desk. "Excuse me, I need to get to my next class."

"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall called after him.

He half-expected her to reprimand him for his bad language. Instead, she said, "Your duty tonight is to patrol the halls. If I see anyone else doing it in place of you, I may have to seriously consider taking away your badge."

As if he really cared. But he didn't say that to her. He just walked out of the room in a huff, wondering which prefect he should ask to take over his duties that night.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter! xoxo  



	3. Pretend

**Author's Note:**Hmm...well, I was seriously considering giving up this story for a while, mainly due to the fact that I've done a lousy job in planning it all out. I have so many ideas as to what is going to happen, but I never stopped to figure out what order it would all happen in and blah blah blah. But I had a talk with my boyfriend and he encouraged me to continue with the story for right now, so that is what I will do. For those of you who are reading and have questions as to what the heck is going on, don't worry - I _will_ answer them within the next few chapters! So I really hope you all stick around. :)

**Disclaimer:** Has anyone else ever had that dream where you go out into public, and you're completely naked? I have. On a completely unrelated note, I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

**_  
September 19th _**

Draco could think of many things he would rather be doing on a Friday night than spending it with Hermione Granger. Yet there he was, doing just that.

He had only been Head Boy for a total of nineteen days, but he was hating it already, mainly due to moments like this one, when he was wandering around in the dark with a mudblood.

"Dammit Granger, could you walk _any slower_?" he groaned, putting a special emphasis on the last two words, drawing them out as if to give an example as to what _any slower _meant.

From a few feet behind him, Hermione replied, "It doesn't matter how fast we walk, Malfoy, we still have to be doing this for the same amount of time."

"Yeah, I know that Granger. I'm not completely daft. It's just fucking annoying that I have to keep slowing down so that you can keep up with me."

Hermione sighed. "Well then stop slowing down so that I can keep up with you. Has it occurred to you that maybe I'm keeping my distance, not because I'm _slow_, but because I don't want to be anywhere near you?"

"Fine," Draco growled. His temper (which he'd done a great job of keeping under control while in the general vicinity of Hermione) flared, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to just throttle the girl. But instead, he spun around, marched right over to her…and grabbed her wand – her only light source – out of her hand.

"Hey!" she cried. "Give that back!"

She quickly grabbed for it, but Draco was too swift in his actions. He spun back around and began walking as fast as he could away from her. "If you want your wand back Granger," he called back to her, "then you're just going to have to catch up with me to get it. Or, patrol these pitch-black halls by yourself. It's your choice."

He was so sick and tired of Hermione Granger that he actually hadn't minded that she'd been lagging behind during patrols. He didn't want to be around _her_ as much as she didn't want to be around _him._ However, this provided the perfect opportunity for him to annoy her – which was currently his favorite thing in the world to do.

So he kept on walking, not looking back. He could hear her calling after him, pleading for him to return to her with her wand, but it just made him walk faster. Hey - she'd asked for it.

About five minutes later, Draco realized that Hermione had opted not to follow him. That didn't surprise him in the least, but it did make him wonder how the hell she was patrolling in the dark. Without the magic of a wand, the hallways at night were as dark as the inside of your eyelids. And, depending on what type of students happened to be lurking about after curfew, they were _unsafe_, too. Especially if you happened to be a petite female who was all alone…

Dammit. He'd have to go back for her. He didn't _want_ to, of course. Who cared if something bad happened to her? It's not like she'd be sadly missed. Well, by _him_, anyway. However, it probably wouldn't look too good if the Head Girl had an accident whilst on patrol with the Head Boy who just _happened_ to hate her guts.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Granger?" He called out her name as loudly as he could without attracting any attention (the last thing he needed was Peeves to get involved) and began to walk back in the direction he came from.

He continued to call out her name the whole way back, but received no response. "Shit," he mumbled. Surely, nothing could have happened to her in _five minutes_, right? That was hardly enough time for the mudblood to get into trouble. She was probably just –

Suddenly, Draco's foot hit something solid on the floor. The two wands he'd been holding onto flew out of his hands as he stumbled forward.

"Wow, even with _two_ wands you couldn't see where you were going?"

Draco rushed to steady himself. He picked his wand up from the floor and aimed it in the direction of the voice that had just spoken. Hermione was sitting on the floor, leaning up against the wall; her legs, which had tripped him, were outstretched in front of her. "Did you have a nice trip?"

"Sod off, bitch," Draco growled. He suddenly could not remember why he'd bothered to come back for her.

"How dare _you_ call _me_ a _bitch_," Hermione said through clenched teeth. She crawled over to where her wand had dropped, picked it up and then stood. She glared over at him. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't hex you right now."

"Uh…because if you _do_, you'll have to sleep with one eye open for the next nine and a half months," Draco replied. "Nobody hexes me and gets away with it."

Hermione snorted. "You are such a pompous ass. And how _dare_ you take my wand and leave me here all alone."

"Calm down, Granger, it was a fucking joke. Don't you have a sense of humor?"

"A sense of humor? You really think what you did was _funny_?"

"Well nobody asked you to stay here, you stupid bitch!" Draco hissed. "You could have just followed me and fought for your wand back. Or, in the very least, if you had followed me, you would have been following a _light source_. Besides, what's the big deal? What, are you afraid of the dark?"

Bingo. Even though the light emanating from their wands was dim, Draco could tell she was blushing. And the fact she had failed to respond was a good indication he'd hit the nail on the head. So she _was_ afraid of the dark!

He chuckled. "Seriously, Granger? You're afraid of the _dark_? How old are you? Five?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Go to hell, Malfoy."

Draco's chuckle turned into a full laugh. "What – and leave you here all alone in the big, scary _dark_? That wouldn't be nice of me, would it?"

"I hate you, Malfoy," Hermione muttered. She turned around and began to walk away.

Draco immediately followed. "I know you hate me. You know how I know that? You tell me every single day. And every single day, _I_ say -"

"_The feeling, my dear mudblood, is mutual_," Hermione finished for him in her deepest voice. "We're like a broken record."

"Huh?"

"Never mind," she mumbled. She wasn't in the mood to explain what records were and why they sounded like a _broken_ one. So, they continued their patrol in silence.

That is, until Draco said, "Why the hell are you carrying around that book with you on patrol?"

Hermione glanced down at the book in her hand. She was surprised that Draco hadn't noticed it until just now. She'd had it with her when they'd left for their duties earlier. "Because," she said, "I want to. It was a gift."

"A gift?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow. "Is it a special occasion or something?"

Hermione remained silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not she should answer that question. Finally, she said, "If you must know…today is my birthday."

Draco's immediate reaction was a snort. "Seriously?"

"Yes. Seriously." He could tell she was already regretting having told him.

He laughed. "Well happy birthday, mudblood. So who gave you the book?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but he beat her to it. "Wait," he said, "let me guess. You're carrying it around with you on _patrol_, when you can't even _read_ it…therefore, you're just carrying it around because it has some sort of sentimental value to you. So I'm just going to take a wild guess here: did _Potter_ give it to you?"

This most likely was another blushing moment for her, Draco could tell. He smirked at his excellent detective skills.

"As a matter of fact, yes - Harry gave me this book. But I don't see why you think that is so funny."

"Because! You're so hopelessly in love with Potter, and you don't even realize it!"

"Oh," Hermione moaned, "not _that_ again."

"Oh come on, Granger, just admit it – Potter makes you all weak in the knees. I have to admit, you two _would_ make a cute couple…if only, you know, either one of you was _cute._"

"Funny," Hermione said sarcastically. "But for the one millionth time, I am not in love with Harry. He's my best friend."

"And so is Ronald Weasley, but I don't see you desperately clinging to the gift _he _gave you." Draco paused. "Which was _what_, by the way?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you are incredibly nosy?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to pass the time here. I figure the more I talk to you, the less likely I'll be to leave you alone in the dark again. Now, about this whole being in love with Potter thing…"

Hermione sighed. "There _is_ no _'in love with Potter thing'_. You are sadly mistaken, I am afraid. Harry _and_ Ron are my best friends – nothing more, nothing less. You are reading too much into it. Besides, why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?"

"I'm _hardly _interested in your love life, Granger. I'm just looking for new ways I can torment you. And from the looks of it, I've found a good one."

She shook her head. "You honestly have nothing better to do with your time than torment me?"

"Well, at the moment…_no_." He grinned and shined his wand's light in her face. To his surprise, she was grinning back at him.

It was moments like this one that made Draco hate Hermione just a little bit less. Of course, these moments rarely ever happened. In fact, this was the first one. However, they had been living together for nineteen days now, and it was actually going better than Draco had expected. Every day, he brought Pansy Parkinson home for a few _after-school activities_, and every day, Hermione left, without any complaints, to go find her friends. On the few occasions she'd had Potter and the two Weasleys over, he had done the same. And neither had ventured anywhere near each other's bedrooms. And during the times they both happened to be around the common room at the same time, they kept their distance from each other and barely spoke a word. All in all, the year was going pretty well for both of them.

"So what exactly _is_ this special book Potter gave you?" he asked suddenly, grabbing the book out of her hand.

"Malfoy!" she screamed, immediately reaching for it back. However, he held it high above his head, so even when she jumped, she could not reach it. "Give it back!"

With one hand, Draco held her back; with the other, he brought the book closer to his face to read the title. It read, simply, _Journal_. "A journal?" He chuckled. "Potter gave Granger a diary? In hopes that you will write about your deepest, darkest fantasies about him? So what have you written so far, huh? _Dear Diary, today Harry Potter looked very handsome. I would like to shag his brains out -_"

"You prat!" Hermione lunged forward and managed to snatch the book out of his hands. "He just gave it to me a couple of hours ago. I haven't written in it yet. And even if I _had_, I wouldn't have written _that_, you sick, perverted bastard!"

"Watch it with the name-calling, mudblood," Draco warned. "Or else."

"Or else _what_?"

"Or else I will cook up a Polyjuice potion using essence of Hermione Granger, and I will go to Potter, as you, and profess your undying love for him."

Hermione laughed. "Right. Well then, what would you do if your confession of undying love made him want to snog you, thinking it was me? What would you do then?"

Draco scoffed. "I hardly think I'd have to worry about _that_. I doubt Potter would want to kiss _you_."

The look on her face was priceless. Draco had decided that c_restfallen_ was the best way to describe it. The second the words were out of his mouth, the girl in front of him looked as though she had just been punched in the stomach. He could tell she was bothered by his comment. Not because he had insulted her…but because she probably figured the insult was true.

She remained silent for the rest of the patrol, but she managed to keep in stride with him. He didn't bother to try and strike up a conversation, because he knew she would just ignore him anyway. The fact that they were living together now completely changed the way they acted around each other – or, more accurately, the way _she_ acted around _him_. Had he made that comment to her _last_ year, for instance, she would have wasted no time in insulting him back. But for the past nineteen days, it seemed she had avoided any sort of conflict with him. And oh, how he had attempted to get her going with any sort of comment – but to no prevail. He had not even managed to get her to raise her voice to him until tonight, when she was yelling for him to give her stuff back. And while _that_ was quite entertaining, this silent treatment was _not_. He wanted the old fiery Granger back. The one who would have retorted with some sort of scathing remark.

He missed that Granger.

Minutes later, they arrived in front of the portrait guarding their living quarters. Hermione mumbled the password and walked right in as soon as the door opened. Draco followed closely on her heel, eager to say something – _anything_ – that would get her talking again. For some reason, he couldn't stand her ignoring him.

"Hey, Granger," he said as she was heading toward her bedroom.

She stopped mid-stride and stood there for a moment, her back to him, obviously contemplating whether or not she should acknowledge him. Finally, she turned around and said flatly, "What?"

Thinking fast, Draco said, "The only reason I said Potter wouldn't want to kiss you is because he's a complete poofter. Maybe if he liked _girls_…"

Hermione smirked and shook her head. "Harry's not gay, Malfoy."

Draco returned the smirk. "You can keep telling yourself that, Granger, but believing it will not make it true."

Hermione's smirk turned into a grin as she punched his arm as hard as she could. However, there was no maliciousness involved with the hit – it was strictly playful. Obviously, she had recognized his joke as a way to apologize for hurting her feelings, without actually having to apologize and lose his reputation as a jerk. "I -"

"You hate me. Yeah, yeah. I know."

"Wow. It's like we can read each other's minds."

"I know, I'm reading yours again right now. Dirty thoughts you've got there, Granger. But I'm sorry to inform you that you will never get to see me naked."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And for that, I am very thankful."

"Oh admit it, Granger," he said, moving closer to her. "You want me."

"Yeah…_to go to hell_, Malfoy. I want you _to go to hell_."

"Aw, the mudblood is hurting my feelings."

"Good," Hermione said. "Your ego can afford to be deflated once in a while. Goodnight, ferret." She turned on her heel and headed for her bedroom.

"You know I love it when you call me names," he called after her.

"Sod off, you pompous git."

"Oh, Granger, what would I do without you?"

Hermione stopped just in front of her door and turned around. A small smile crept slowly across her lips, but she said nothing. She held his gaze for a few brief moments before turning back around and disappearing behind her bedroom door.

Neither one had any way of knowing that in just a few short months, Draco would be receiving the answer to that very question.

* * *

Patrolling alone was about as fun as playing Quidditch alone – which was to say, not very fun at all. That was probably the best reason Draco had for not patrolling anymore. Being a tall, muscular male in good shape, he did not have to worry about what may be hiding in the shadows that engulfed the hallways at night. Rather, he had to worry more about dying from boredom first. 

During the first couple of lonely patrols after Hermione's death, Draco had simply pretended that she was just lagging behind, as usual. He would pretend that the silence that surrounded him was due to the fact she was ignoring him because of some rude remark he had made. In other words, he had pretended that it was like every other patrol he'd done when she was alive.

The night he finally stopped pretending was the very same night he stopped patrolling.

Until _this_ night, that is. He had given a lot of thought to the conversation he'd had with McGonagall earlier in the day, and he had come to the realization that he really did not want to lose his Head Boy badge after all. By losing his badge, he would be losing everything that reminded him of _her. _And frankly, he just wasn't ready for that yet.

So on this night, he patrolled, alone. Afterward, he wondered why he had bothered. Not only had he _not_ run into McGonagall checking up on him, but he also hadn't run into _anyone_ at all. That, of course, worsened Draco's mood. Reprimanding other students (particularly underclassmen and students belonging to other houses) used to be his favorite pastime as a prefect, _and_ as Head Boy. Without that luxury, those positions were boring and useless, in his opinion. Patrolling the halls when there was nobody there to break the rules was a _huge_ waste of time. And tonight's patrol was possibly the biggest waste of time yet this year.

He was now seriously regretting having not bribed someone else to do it.

After about an hour, he couldn't take it anymore and headed back to his common room. He walked through the portrait hole (after receiving a look of disapproval from the portrait that hung there) and entered the dark common room. He flung his wand onto the table, loosened up his tie, and then mumbled a spell that caused the whole room to light up – revealing Pansy Parkinson, sitting cross-legged on the couch; her arms crisscrossed over her chest. She had a very unpleasant expression on her face.

When Draco caught sight of her, he jumped. He wasn't exactly expecting somebody to be sitting in his common room in the dark, in the middle of the night. "Dammit, Pansy," he muttered. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You never should have given me the password, baby," she said with a smile that was in no way sincere.

_You can say _that_ again_, Draco thought. If ever there was a time for him to regret having given Pansy the password to his common room, it was now. "What do you want?"

"You, Draco," she said simply. "I want _you_. But you're never around anymore. You completely ignore me. And Blaise. You've become a stranger, and I demand to know why."

Draco sighed. He took off his robes and threw them over the armchair. "Pansy, now is not the best time -"

"I don't care," she interjected. "I've been putting up with this for too long. I have a right to know why you've been giving me the cold shoulder. I'm your _girlfriend_, Draco."

Draco groaned. Not the _girlfriend_ thing again. She had never technically been his girlfriend. They had just been friends with…benefits. Neither one had ever wanted to be in a serious relationship, so they had decided that what they'd had was purely physical, and they were both perfectly fine with that. Until _now_, apparently.

"Pansy, you know perfectly well that what we have is -"

"_Special_," she finished for him.

"No, Pansy, it isn't _special_. All we've ever done is fool around. We've never had anything _close_ to a meaningful relationship, and you've been well aware of that fact all along. And you've been fine with it all along, so why are you suddenly feeling differently about it?"

"Because!" Pansy exclaimed. "The reason why all we've ever done is fool around is because that's all _you've_ ever wanted to do. You're not an idiot, Draco. Surely you can see that I _love_ you."

"You don't love me, Pansy," Draco said, shaking his head. "You love the idea of _being_ with me, that's all."

"You have no idea how I feel!" she cried, jumping up from the couch. "I've been in love with you for nearly seven years now – and you _know_ it! So don't go telling me that I don't love you!" She paused. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked to be on the verge of tears. Finally, she whispered, "Is there someone else?"

_Yes,_ he thought, _but she's dead._ "Cripes, Pansy, no – there's no one else."

"Well then what is it?" she cried, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Because I really don't get it. Ever since I came back from Christmas break, you've been a completely different person. You're no fun to be around, anymore. In fact, Goyle just said this morning that -"

"I don't care what Goyle said," Draco snapped. "I honestly don't give a shit if anyone thinks I'm fun anymore. If they don't like it, that's _their _problem, not _mine_. I'm not here just to amuse people, you know."

"I know that! But -"

"No, Pansy, you obviously _don't_ know that! Why else would you sneak in here in the middle of the night to lecture me?"

"I'm not lecturing you!"

"Then what the hell do you call this?"

Pansy moved in closer to Draco and gently placed a hand on the side of his face. He jerked at the sudden contact, but she didn't seem to notice. "I just wanted to see you," she said in a low voice. "I've really missed you these past couple of months. I…just want everything to go back to normal. I want the old Draco Malfoy back."

Draco stared down into Pansy's baby blue eyes. This was the first time in a long time that anyone had touched him, and he had to admit that the contact felt nice. It was a tender gesture on Pansy's part, and he couldn't help but appreciate it. Gazing down at her, he wondered if maybe this was the opportunity he had been waiting for – the opportunity to let go and move on. Here was a girl who was devoted to him…who would no doubt take care of him and provide him with solace of some sort, even if she didn't realize it. He reached up and placed his hand over hers, and closed his eyes. Who was he kidding? He did not love Pansy Parkinson, and he was sure that he never would. But was it possible for him to…pretend? Pretend like he did during patrols. Pretend, when he closed his eyes, that the girl in front of him was not Pansy, but _her._

Before he realized what he was doing, he leaned in and kissed Pansy. It was not a gentle kiss, filled with tenderness and longing – rather, it was rough and eager. He knew the second his lips touched hers that he could not make himself fall in love with Pansy Parkinson. However, he figured if he closed his eyes tightly enough and erased any sort of thoughts from his head, it would be easy to pretend it wasn't her. It would be easy to pretend that it was Hermione Granger.

Pansy, who had no idea what kind of fantasy Draco was envisioning in his head, took advantage of this sudden act of affection. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, matching his ferocity with her own. In turn, Draco wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

He had never really enjoyed kissing Pansy, yet they had kissed countless times in the past couple of years. Draco had never felt any sort of connection with her in the first place. She was just…a girl. And he was a guy, so he of course enjoyed _any _sort of physical activities he had an opportunity to engage in – no matter which girl was with him at the time. And right now was no exception. He could pretend all he wanted to, but that's all it was - make believe. But at this very moment, he was going to take what he could get. It was better than nothing.

"Look at me, Draco," Pansy whispered suddenly, breaking the kiss.

_No,_ he thought_, please don't make me. Please don't make me look at you. Let me pretend for one more minute, that's all I ask. Because the moment I open my eyes, I will see that this is all just a fantasy, and I don't want to lose that. I _can't_…_

"Draco," she purred, "_look at me_."

Shaking slightly, Draco slowly opened his eyes to what stood before him. What he saw was not his fantasy, but his reality. He was not in love with Pansy Parkinson. He never would be. And he could pretend all he wanted, but it would never be the same. She would never be the one he wanted. He could never _have_ the one he wanted – and he could accept that. What he _couldn't_ accept, however, was any substitute.

He stared deeply into her eyes one last time, searching for something…anything that indicated that he would be able to move on with her. But in her eyes, he found nothing - nothing but lust and apprehension. He suspected the latter was due to her fear of losing him. Which was what she was about to do.

"Get out," he said softly.

Pansy, who had been smiling only one second before, look bewildered – as if thinking she had not heard him right. "Excuse me?"

"I said _get out_."

Her jaw dropped at the very same moment her eyes misted over. "I d-don't understand," she stammered.

Draco gently removed her arms from around his neck and took a step back. "What part of _get out_ don't you understand, Parkinson? _Leave._ Get out of here - now. Just…go."

Pansy blinked and one lone tear escaped, leaving a trail down the side of her face. Her expression quickly went from bewildered, to crushed, and then straight to downright angry. Wiping away the tear, she said, "Fuck you, Draco Malfoy. Just…fuck you."

She brushed past him and headed for the door. "You know, Draco," she said, stopping right in front of the portrait hole. She glanced over her shoulder at him. "If you're not careful, you're going to lose everyone who's ever meant _anything_ to you." And with that, she left.

Stone faced and numb, Draco watched her go. "Too late," he muttered, to nobody but himself, "I already have."

* * *

Thanks again for all of the reviews! xoxo 


	4. Truce

**Author's Note: **So, I am currently dog/house sitting out in the middle of nowhere for my aunt and uncle, and I've been incredibly lonely and bored. So you would think I'd have more time to write, and I have, but get this – they have _dial-up_ Internet (it takes about 2 minutes to log into Yahoo to check my e-mail), and when I first got here, I realized their computer has no MS Word, or any program to use to write. But now I've gotten Open Office installed on it, so I am now able to type. Yay. 

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I'm so glad I've been able to keep you all for three chapters. I hope I keep you through this one too!

**Disclaimer:** Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

* * *

_** November 2nd**_

Draco woke up feeling like hell.

The day before had been the very first Quidditch match of the year – Slytherin against Gryffindor – and it couldn't have been a worse day to play, for it was also the _coldest_ day of the year so far, complete with torrential rain. It must have been a bad combination, because when Draco awoke the next morning, he felt like he had the worst hangover ever, but without having had the luxury of being drunk the night before.

First of all, he was having a hard time breathing, due to nasal congestion. Also, his throat felt hard and swollen and he winced in pain every time he swallowed. And to top it all off, he felt achy all over, including a splitting headache. All in all, he felt like shit.

Somehow, though, he managed to drag himself out of bed and into the bathroom - which fortunately was not occupied by a certain Gryffindor mudblood - and take a shower. After that, he managed to get dressed and drag himself into the common room. He groaned inwardly when he saw that Hermione was sitting on the couch, doing some last minute studying.

"It's about time you got up," she said, not looking up from the book her nose was stuck in.

Draco ignored her and flung his bag onto the armchair so that he could put on his robes.

When she received no response, she looked up at him. "Wow, you look like hell."

"What a coincidence, Granger," he said, "so do you. But at least I have an excuse."

Hermione smirked. "You're sick."

"Wow. I'm starting to see why they call you the smartest witch in our class." Draco sneezed. "You're very observant."

"Oh, you poor thing," Hermione said in an insincere voice.

"Thanks, Granger," he said in a sarcastic and very raspy voice. "Your concern for my health is overwhelming. Touching, really."

Hermione snorted. "So what's wrong with you? I'm guessing it's not some sort of sexually transmitted disease. Judging from the sound of your voice, you've got a bad cold. Did somebody forget to bundle up for the big game yesterday?"

"No offense, Granger, but I don't feel like talking to you on a day that I feel perfectly healthy, so it should be no surprise that I would rather not chat with you right now, when I'm feeling like shit. So if you'll please excuse me..." He grabbed his book and headed for the portrait hole.

"Hey – where do you think you're going?" Hermione asked, placing her book onto the table in front of her.

Draco groaned. "Where do you _think_ I'm going, Granger? It's morning. I'm hungry. Perhaps breakfast would be a good guess? You know, I'm considering taking back my comment about you being the smartest witch in our class – even though I was being sarcastic when I said it, anyway..."

Hermione stood up and strolled over to him. "But you're sick," she said. Suddenly, she lifted her hand and brought it closer to his face.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing, mudblood?" Draco growled, grabbing her wrist before she could touch him. "Don't. Touch. Me," he said through clenched teeth.

"Oh for Heaven's sake," she said, easily shrugging off his hand from her wrist. She brought the palm of her hand up and placed it gently on his forehead. She gasped slightly. "Malfoy, you're burning up."

Draco smacked her hand away. "I already know I'm hot, Granger."

"Well, at least your ego hasn't suffered any," Hermione muttered. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a determined look. "You're not going to class."

"Excuse me, Mommy?" Draco scoffed.

"I said you're not going to class. You've got a fever, and obviously, you're not feeling well. I can tell by your lack of ability to insult me properly."

"Bitch."

"See? You've called me bitch so many times in the past, it has lost its offensive meaning. Now go back to bed."

"Don't tell me what to do, Granger," he warned.

"Obviously, you have no idea how important it is to take care of yourself when you're ill. I heard about this girl once who had the flu, and she completely ignored her symptoms and it turned out that -"

"Granger," Draco interrupted, "no offense, but I really have no time to stay and chat. I need to get down to breakfast. See, unlike _you_, I have people who want to see me."

"Malfoy, I'm serious," Hermione said. "You really should not be going to class today. You've got a fever. You look and sound like hell. And if you don't take care of yourself, you'll just get feeling worse. Now, I'm sure these people who supposedly want to see you will live until tomorrow. So go back to bed."

"Granger -"

His initial plan was to argue with her, and perhaps throw in a few insults while he was at it, but the truth was...she was right. He shouldn't be going to class feeling like this. If he was too sick to insult Granger, he was too sick to learn about the Dark Arts, or look into some stupid crystal ball and pretend to see his future...

"Fine," he huffed. "I won't go to class. But not because you don't want me to, but because I really wasn't going to, anyway."

Hermione gave him a triumphant smile. "Smart move, Malfoy. Now, I will go let your professors know, and then I'll be back." She turned on her heel and headed for the door.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Draco said, calling her back. "What do you _mean_, you'll be back?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, _somebody_ is going to have to stay here and take care of you. It might as well be me."

Draco laughed, then winced in pain after it made his headache worse. "Granger, I do not need anyone to take care of me. Least of all a _mudblood_. Now go run along and catch up with your little friends. I can take care of myself."

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. "Right. Draco Malfoy can take care of himself? Look, don't be a dolt. Let me stay here and take care of you."

"Why would you want to do that, Granger? I would think you would _love _to see me suffer."

"Oh, I _do_," she said, grinning. "However, if _you're_ sick, _I_ will suffer, too. I'll have to listen to you whine and complain until you get better."

"So? You'll have to listen to me whine and complain if you stay here and take care of me. What's the difference?"

"The difference is," Hermione said, grabbing her own bag and heading once again for the portrait hole, "I know a way to get you back to normal real fast, so I will only have to listen to you whine _today_. So I will go let our professors know you will not be attending class today, and I'll be back in a little while, okay? Now, go rest until I get back."

That's exactly what he did. Draco never thought he would stoop so low as to take orders from a mudblood, and when he was feeling back to normal again, he would hate himself for it. But for now, he just wanted to crawl back into bed and pass out. However, he made it no further than the common room couch.

He fell back to sleep the moment his head hit the pillow, only to be awakened what felt like only two seconds later. However, it had probably been a little longer than that, because suddenly, Granger was sitting beside him on the couch, holding a mug and stirring whatever it was filled with.

She smiled when she saw he was awake. "You've been asleep for a few hours," she said. "I didn't have the heart to wake you."

"How sweet," Draco said sarcastically. He squinted at the brightness of the room. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, only to be greeted with the same headache he'd had earlier, and a throat so sore that he could barely swallow. "What is that?" he asked, motioning to the mug in her hand.

"Ahh," she said, "it's my secret Make-Malfoy-Better potion." She gave him a mischievous smile.

"If you think I'm drinking _anything_ you made for me, Granger, you can just forget it. Your magical cure is probably laced with poison."

Hermione giggled. "Oh Malfoy, if I wanted to kill you, I'd like to think I could come up with a more creative way."

Draco looked at her warily. "I doubt you could."

Hermione pouted. "Do you want my cure, or not?"

"I just said I _didn't_."

"Well too bad," she said. She held the mug closer to him. "Drink it."

"What _is_ it?" he asked again, now staring at the mug more curiously than warily.

"I already told you. It's a secret remedy."

"Well what's _in_ this secret remedy, exactly?"

"If I revealed that information, it wouldn't be a secret anymore, would it? Now just drink it."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't trust you. You drink some first."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said. She proceeded to take a generous sip of the liquid. "There. See? It's not poisoned. Take it." She thrust the mug toward Draco.

He recoiled. "You expect me to drink that after you got your mudblood germs in it? I don't think so, Granger." He pushed her hand away.

Hermione scoffed and slammed the mug down onto the table in exasperation. "Fine!" she said. "I was just trying to help you, but obviously you neither need nor want my help, so I give up. I hope you feel better," she said stiffly. She mumbled something incoherently before storming out of the room.

Suddenly, Draco felt like a jerk. It was not often he did or said something he regretted, but at that very moment, he found himself wishing he could relive the last couple of minutes and just drink the stupid "secret remedy" for her. He hadn't really been worried that it was poisoned – he just enjoyed giving her a hard time. For some inexplicable reason, she had wanted to help him – and she had missed a whole day of classes to do just that. And for Granger, missing classes was a _huge_ sacrifice.

And instead of appreciating what she was doing for him, he had made her wonder why she'd even bothered in the first place.

Reaching over to the table, Draco picked up the mug and glanced inside at the contents. The liquid looked and smelled fairly benign.

"Oh, what the hell," he mumbled. He closed his eyes tightly and gulped down the contents of the mug. Whatever it was, it wasn't all that bad. It was sweet, with a bitter aftertaste, and it tingled going down his throat. He placed the mug back onto the table, and the minute he sat back on the couch, he passed out.

He couldn't remember having dreamt during his slumber. In fact, it didn't even feel like he would have had enough time _to_ dream. When he opened his eyes, the common room was still bright with sunlight. He must have only dozed off. Lazily, he rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling, trying to bring his eyes into focus.

"Have a nice nap?"

At the sound of the voice, Draco's gaze immediately shot over to the armchair across from the couch. There sat Hermione, still dressed in her school uniform, reading a book.

"Granger," he croaked.

Hermione set her book onto her lap. "So I take it you drank my secret potion?"

"What gave you _that_ idea?" Draco grumbled as he slowly sat up.

"Well, for starters, the mug is empty. Plus, you've been asleep for -" She glanced down at her watch. "Oh, about twelve hours or so."

"_What_?" Draco shook his head. "Are you serious? That drink of yours knocked me out. You drugged me!"

Hermione smirked. "Yeah, but in a good way."

"_A good way_?" Draco mimicked. "You bitch! You told me it was a _remedy_."

"And it was," Hermione said. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine," he hissed. He paused, then said, "Wait...I feel...perfectly fine." He swallowed – no pain. He sniffed at the air – no stuffiness. And that throbbing pain in his head was completely gone.

Hermione smiled. "I _told _you it would work. Don't worry – it was all natural. However, the side effects _may_ include feeling apologetic to the girl who was only trying to help you."

Draco groaned. "You're not getting an apology from me, Granger."

"I wasn't really expecting one, Malfoy." She stood up and grabbed her robes. "You might want to start getting ready for breakfast. You don't want to keep your fans waiting." She turned around and headed for the door.

Draco stared after her. "Wait, Granger," he called out, not really knowing why.

She stopped right in front of the portrait hole and looked back. "What?"

Draco stood up. "Why...why _did_ you help me?"

Hermione stood looking at him for a moment before answering. Finally, she sighed and said, "Because – we're the Head students. We should help each other out. We should...I don't know...we should try being civil to one another. Or...something like that."

"_Civil_?" Draco snorted. "Granger, are you suggesting that we be _friends_?"

"I wouldn't necessarily go _that_ far," Hermione replied. "I just think it's going to be an awfully long year if all we ever do is either fight, insult each other, or ignore each other. I helped you yesterday because I wanted to, and because...well, if the tables had been turned, I would hope you would have done the same for me."

"I wouldn't have," Draco said simply.

"That does not surprise me in the least," Hermione said. "Look, I'm not asking that we become best friends, or friends at _all_, even. I just think we should call a truce, you know? At least think about it. You owe me that."

Draco felt like saying he did not owe her _anything_, but she disappeared through the portrait hole before he got the chance. Granger wanted a _truce_? She wanted them to be civil with each other? That would be a lot harder than it sounded. Sure, he'd give it some thought, but chances were good that he would not take her up on this offer. After all, he had a reputation to maintain, and he certainly could not do that when he was friends with a mudblood.

Deciding he would not plague his thoughts right now with Hermione, Draco headed to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for breakfast. He was feeling great, and he hated to admit it but...he had Granger to thank for that.

Truce or no truce, Draco had a feeling the next seven months with her wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

Draco awoke to sounds coming from the common room. He sat up in bed and glanced over at the window. The room was lit up by the little bit of light seeping in through the part in the curtains. It was morning already. 

He was probably late for class, but right now, that was the least of his concerns. Slowly, he got up and tiptoed over to the door and stopped, listening for any more sounds coming from the common room. Somebody was definitely out there, but who? Probably not Pansy. He was pretty sure she was not speaking to him right now. Still, it had to be somebody who knew the password, and the only person he had ever told was her.

Quietly, he opened up the door and peered out. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, and he certainly didn't see Pansy. Figuring he must have just been hearing things, he exited his bedroom and headed for the bathroom. However, he stopped short when something over by the other bedroom door caught his eye – a person. When he figured out who it was, he crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat, making the other person jump slightly at the sound.

"Is it customary for the Headmaster to enter the Head students' chambers unannounced?" he asked coolly.

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "Hello, Draco," he said pleasantly.

Draco glared at him, not caring that he was being disrespectful to the Headmaster of the school. "What are you doing here?"

Dumbledore took a step away from the bedroom door he stood in front of – _Hermione's_ door – and said, "There are a few things you and I need to discuss."

"Oh yeah? And you couldn't have, oh I don't know, called me into your office between classes? You know, instead of barging in on me when I'm getting ready for class?"

Dumbledore, looking slightly amused, lifted an eyebrow. "Getting ready for class? My boy, classes are over for the day."

Draco couldn't help but feel a little foolish. Somehow, he had managed to sleep all day. "Oh."

"I was informed by Professor McGonagall that you were not in class today, so I thought I would stop by here to have a talk with you."

"I was feeling under the weather," Draco blurted out, "so I slept in."

Dumbledore smiled. "You look perfectly healthy to me. But it does not matter why you were not in class today. What matters is simply the fact that you _weren't_. You see, Professor McGonagall has also informed me about your slipping grades, as have Professor Sprout and Professor Trelawney and…well, actually, all of your teachers except for Professor Snape. Do you care to tell me why this sudden change has taken place?"

"No," Draco replied simply. He brushed past the Headmaster and plopped down onto the couch. He picked up one of his textbooks that was lying on the table and pretended to be interested in it. He hoped the old man would take the hint and leave.

No such luck.

Moments later, Dumbledore took a seat in the armchair across from the couch. He sat there, silent, for what seemed like hours, just looking at Draco. This, of course, made Draco _very_ uncomfortable.

"You know, Draco," he said finally, "different people grieve in different ways. For some people, they sit around all day, torturing themselves with the memories of the ones they've loved and lost. Some try to _ignore_ what has happened. And some people shut themselves off from the world, hoping to prevent themselves from ever getting hurt again. I'm afraid that you may fall under _all_ of those categories."

The nerve of that man! First, he barged into Draco's living quarters uninvited…and then he tried to psychoanalyze him when he knew absolutely nothing about _anything_ that was going on with him. Well, Draco wasn't about to just sit there and take it. He didn't care if this man was the Head of the school. He had no right to do this.

So Draco threw his book back onto the table and said, "Oh, for crying out loud – how many times do I have to _tell_ you people? My father died over a _year_ ago! I'm through with the whole grieving thing, okay? So why don't you all just go -"

"I wasn't talking about your father," Dumbledore interrupted in a soft tone.

Draco froze. He stared at the man in front of him, who was sitting there giving him an all-knowing look. So…he knew. Somehow, the guy knew. Draco couldn't say he was all that surprised. He had called that old man a few things in his day, but _stupid_ was never one of them. The man was known for being very wise, and he had just given Draco a firsthand look as to why that was. He apparently was very good at reading people.

Still, there was no way Draco was going to admit _anything_ to him, so when he regained his composure, he said casually, "Well then I have no idea what you are talking about."

Dumbledore nodded slightly. "Very well, then."

For a brief moment, Draco almost broke down and said something. Something like, "_Oh, you must be talking about Hermione Granger. Why, yes – I do miss her, and I am having a very difficult time dealing with the grief. Can you help me?_" But he remained silent. However, he did appreciate the old man's gesture. He was the _only_ person who had figured it out - why he'd been so different these past couple of months. And he was offering the one thing Draco could use right about now: somebody to talk to…a shoulder to cry on…somebody who wouldn't judge him for feeling this way. Also, he appreciated the man's quick ability to recognize that Draco was not ready for that just yet. It was in this moment that Draco found himself almost _liking_ Professor Dumbledore.

"Now, next order of business," Dumbledore said, sitting up straight. "Professor McGonagall has told me that she talked with you, regarding the new Head Girl."

Draco groaned. Not _this_ again. "Yes, she did."

"Did she inform you that we would value your input into whom we choose?"

"Yes, and I told her I couldn't care less who you picked. I think it's a ridiculous idea, to choose a new Head Girl this late in the year. I think that the school can run just fine _without_ a Head Girl, to be perfectly honest."

"I appreciate your honesty, Draco. But I'm afraid that we are still going to have to appoint a new Head Girl whether you'd like us to or not."

"I know that, sir." Draco stood up from the couch. "Are we done?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, Draco, we are done." He stood up as well. "I hope you're feeling better."

The old man started for the portrait hole but stopped, looking over in the direction of Hermione's bedroom. "I couldn't help but notice," he said, "that Miss Granger's room has not changed since she…" His voice trailed off. He lowered his gaze to the floor. Obviously, he figured he did not need to finish the sentence. Clearing his throat, he continued. "I will be sending Harry Potter over to pack up her belongings -"

"_Potter_?" Draco spat. "Sir, I hardly think you should have _Potter_ do that."

"Why not? He was Miss Granger's closest friend. He keeps in touch with her parents. He can see to it that her belongings get returned to them."

"But -" Draco began to protest, but he quickly shut his mouth. He didn't want to sound like he was pleading. Draco Malfoy didn't _plead_ with anyone for _anything_. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I don't understand why you can't just leave her room the way it is."

Dumbledore gave Draco a quizzical look. "Surely, you cannot be serious. The new Head Girl will want to put her own things in that room. And the Grangers no doubt would like their daughters belongings returned to them."

"I wouldn't be so sure," he mumbled. "If that were true, why haven't they come to get them before now? It sounds to me like they may fall under the grieving category of _ignoring_."

Dumbledore studied him for a moment. "Hmm. Perhaps that is true. But I would say _you're_ ignoring it as well. Draco, it is time to move on. Hermione Granger was a remarkable young woman, and she will be sorely missed by everyone who was lucky enough to have known her. Please understand that this is something that we need to do. I know you feel that this is somehow disrespectful to her memory -"

"Whatever," Draco mumbled. "Send Potter over here. Get a new Head Girl. I just don't care, alright? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm not feeling so hot. I think I'll go back to bed."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well then, I will leave you alone now. I do hope you feel better, Draco."

Draco did not respond as the old man let himself out. He was too angry to speak. It was bad enough they were getting a new Head Girl, but now they were sending Harry Potter over to go through her stuff? As much as Hermione had liked Harry when she was alive, Draco knew that she wouldn't have wanted him going through her belongings. And he also knew she especially wouldn't have wanted him finding her diary...the one Harry had given to her.

_The diary_. Draco had forgotten all about it. In a panic, he rushed over to her room and threw open the door. However, he did not go in. He had no idea where he'd be able to find that diary. Out of the few times he had been in there since her death, he had not seen it once. Meaning, it was probably well-hidden. So hopefully, there was a good chance that Potter wouldn't find it. And even if he _did_, he wouldn't be able to read it, due to the fact that Hermione had it password-protected.

Taking one last look around the room, Draco tried to memorize it just the way it was. After Potter was done with it, it would be an empty room...soon to be filled with the belongings of some other girl. Some other girl whose only purpose would be to replace Hermione. But what the Headmaster had failed to realize was that _nobody _could replace Hermione Granger.

Gently, he closed the door to her bedroom. After that, he retired to his own bedroom. It was still only the afternoon, but Draco had no desire to be awake right now. When he was awake, all he could think about was _her. _Granted, he thought about her when he was _asleep_ too, whenever he had a dream about her. But at least then he could see her and talk to her as though she were still alive. At least that was _something_.

It was better than nothing.

* * *


	5. A Pleasant Surprise

**Author's Note: **I know, I haven't updated in a really long time. But I have a couple of excuses! The first one is...well...I was away at Disney World for a week. And the other is that...well...I've been suffering from writer's block. Again. But my boyfriend keeps pestering me about updating, because he wants to know what's going to happen, so...this one's for you, baby. ;)

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

**_November 14th_**

Making out with Pansy Parkinson was never one of Draco's favorite pastimes, but it sure did beat the alternative, which happened to be patrolling.

He and Hermione had been given the evening off, and Draco was determined to take advantage of his free time by engaging in some extra-curricular activities with someone of the opposite sex. Fortunately (or unfortunately) for him, Pansy Parkinson was readily available – as always.

The thing Draco liked the least about making out with Pansy was how bored he got while doing it. Sure, he was a guy, and like the average hot-blooded male, he enjoyed getting physical with members of the opposite sex. However, what he seemed to lack with Pansy – and every other girl he had ever gotten physical with – was any sort of emotional attachment. Not that he minded, really. After all, he was a Malfoy in every sense of the word, and Malfoy men weren't supposed to get emotional. But sometimes when he was kissing Pansy, he longed to feel some romantic feelings for her. Not that he would necessarily recognize romantic feelings if he experienced them – but that was the precise reason why he wanted to experience them.

But right now, he was experiencing nothing but pure lust as she straddled his lap, kissed his neck, and grasped eagerly onto his hair. And like every other make-out session with her, he couldn't wait for it was time for her to go back to her own common room.

"Oh Draco," she moaned, gently biting his earlobe. She had always been under the impression that doing it turned him on, when actually, it had always kind of irked him. He'd never had the heart to tell her, though. Mainly, he didn't want to do or say anything that would cost him these make-out sessions. He needed them. It was the only time he ever felt human at all.

"Pansy," he gasped. He captured her mouth with his and kissed her so hard that they could barely breathe. That's how Pansy liked it.

She returned his kiss for only a few moments before breaking it. She pulled back slightly and stared at him, trying to catch her breath. For a moment, she had lost herself completely in his eyes. And then, she knew it was time to take things to the next level. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips and slowly began to remove her shirt.

However, the shirt got only halfway over her head when a noise coming from the direction of the portrait hole broke them both out of their lustful daze. Pansy squealed and promptly pulled her shirt back down. Draco quickly pushed her off of him, and she landed beside him on the couch with a slight "oomph".

He glanced up at the cause of this intrusion: Hermione Granger. She had apparently stormed in through the portrait hole, with the intent of going straight to her room. Of course, she halted slightly when she caught sight of what was happening on the couch.

"Oh!" she gasped. And then she just stood there, frozen, with an expression on her face that was a mixture of embarrassment and fury. Draco never knew that combination was even possible. But she had managed to pull it off. Now, the embarrassment he could explain, but the fury...he had no idea where that had come from.

"Granger, what the hell?" he snapped.

Hermione, whose jaw had only seconds before practically been touching the floor, replied, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were-"

"The hell you didn't," he grumbled. He quickly smoothed out his hair as he glared up at her. "I told you earlier that I was having a guest over tonight. Did you suddenly forget our rule?"

"Yes," she stammered. "I mean, no – I didn't forget our rule, I just forgot you said you were having anyone over tonight."

Draco stared up at her. It had been twelve days since she had proposed that little friendship idea, and he had seriously begun to consider it. In fact, he had agreed to it, under one condition: that they only got along in the privacy of their own common room – nowhere else, and with nobody else around. She had been fine with that, saying that all she wanted was to live peacefully with him for the rest of the year. But now, Draco was seriously regretting having agreed to the whole thing. Because right now, he was not feeling very friendly toward her.

Hermione stared back at him, most likely avoiding the death glares coming from Pansy. It was in this moment that Draco realized that along with the expression of embarrassment and fury, there was an expression of anguish. And judging from her slightly red, puffy eyes, she had most likely been crying.

Instead of asking her what was wrong, however, he said simply, "Get out."

Once again, Hermione's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"I said, _get out_. It's _my_ night for guests, so you need to leave."

Hermione looked from Draco, to Pansy, then back to Draco. "Fine," she said. She proceeded to stomp toward her bedroom.

Draco sighed. "Granger, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to my room," she replied. "I'm leaving you two alone. I'm giving you privacy."

"When I said get out, I meant get out of here _completely_ – not just migrate to your room."

"You can't kick me out," she said.

Draco stood up and folded his arms across his chest. "You underestimate the things I can do, Granger. Now leave before I _make_ you leave."

Hermione opened her mouth as if to argue, but quickly shut it. Suddenly, she looked very tired. "Please," she said quietly. "Please let me stay here. I have nowhere else to go."

"Do you honestly think I care? That's not my problem, Granger."

Hermione's lower lip began to tremble. "Please, you won't even know I'm here, I promise."

Draco took a step forward. "Get. Out. Now."

She continued to stare at him, her eyes pleading with him to let her stay.

For a brief moment, Draco almost caved in and let her. But one look at Pansy convinced him not to. Not only would it kill their evening together, but it would also make Pansy suspicious as to why he was suddenly being nice to a Gryffindor mudblood. And he couldn't risk that.

So instead, he said in a low voice, "If you don't leave now, Granger, I will physically remove you myself."

Hermione inhaled sharply. For a moment, Draco was sure that Hermione was going to begin yelling and screaming and hitting, but he was wrong. Instead, she threw her schoolbooks onto the floor in front of her and without another word, she brushed past him and ran out of the room.

When she was gone, Pansy snorted. "What a stupid bitch."

Draco ignored her and stared down at the books on the floor. He felt terrible. Obviously, Hermione had been upset about something, and Draco had made her leave, without even asking if she was okay. Of course, that wasn't exactly out of character for him. He was sure Hermione was not surprised in the least at the way he'd acted. But something was creeping up in the pit of his stomach, and he was pretty sure it was guilt.

"Leave it to a mudblood to ruin the mood," Pansy continued, examining her fingernails. "Honestly, I'm amazed you've managed to last this long living with her. I think I would have smothered her with a pillow by now-"

"Shut up, Pansy," Draco said through clenched teeth.

Pansy looked up at him with a look of shock. "Excuse me?"

Draco took a deep breath in an attempt to control his sudden anger. "Pansy, maybe you should leave too."

"You're kidding," she said simply, shaking her head.

"Actually, I'm not," he said. "I would appreciate it if you left. I'm not really in the mood for fooling around right now."

Pansy looked at him in disbelief. "Well, you _were_ in the mood before _she_ showed up." The second the words were out of her mouth, Pansy's eyes widened, as if some sort of realization had just dawned on her. However, she shook her head as if trying to disprove the theory in her mind. "Fine," she said stiffly, getting up from the couch. "We can finish this some other time." Without saying goodbye, she walked straight to the portrait hole and left.

For a moment, Draco stood there, wondering what had just happened. Why had he kicked Pansy out? Now she seemed suspicious, and with good reason. But Draco couldn't worry about that right now. He felt like such a jerk for getting rid of Granger. This would no doubt put a strain on their already weak friendship – if you could even refer to their relationship as that. Things had been going just fine since their little agreement, and he had to go and screw it up. It was only a matter of time.

So, in hopes to maybe salvage whatever kind of relationship they did have, Draco decided to take a seat on the couch and wait for Hermione to return. When she did, he would ask her what was wrong and perhaps, if the mood hit him, he would apologize.

He woke up a couple hours later. He sat up on the couch and looked around the dimly lit room. The fire had gone out completely in the fireplace. How long had he been asleep? He didn't even remember falling asleep in the first place. _So much for waiting up for Hermione_. She must have come home and tiptoed past him, not wanting to wake him. He yawned as he pulled himself up from the couch. Oh well. He could apologize in the morning.

He was heading toward his bedroom when he stumbled over something on the floor. After cursing to himself, he bent down and picked up the object – it was one of Hermione's text books. That was a bit odd. One thing he had always noticed about Hermione was that she was a neat freak. It seemed weird that she would leave her books on the floor all night, without either taking them to her room, or at least placing them onto the table. Was it possible that she hadn't returned home yet? If she hadn't, then what was she doing? It wasn't like Granger to stay out late on a school night.

Clutching the book in his hand, Draco walked over to Hermione's bedroom door. He knocked once, quietly. When he received no response, he knocked once more, only louder this time. He braced himself for the possible wrath that would be the result of him coming within fifteen feet of her bedroom. But nothing happened.

"Granger," he said loudly, deciding to try a different approach. Still nothing. He reached for the doorknob, even though he figured it was pointless. Her bedroom was most likely protected by some sort of spell to keep out unwanted visitors – namely him. And he was right – sort of. While he was able to open the door, he was unable to take a step into the room. Still, he was able to glance in, and Hermione was not in there.

"Where are you, Granger?" he mumbled to himself. It was way past midnight now, and the fact that Hermione had not come back concerned him – as much as he wished it didn't. And what was worse – he wanted nothing more than to go try and find her.

_Don't bother_, he told himself. _She's probably with Potter and the Weasels_. _She's probably spending the night in the Gryffindor common room_. Yes, he figured that was probably the case. Still, he was pretty sure he'd be unable to get back to sleep until he knew exactly where she was.

So, grabbing his wand off the table, he set out to look for her. He had no way of knowing if she was, in fact, staying overnight in the Gryffindor common room, but he figured if he exhausted every other place first, he could safely assume that's where she was. He certainly wasn't going to go pleading with the Fat Lady to let him in to check. On the off chance that she _did_ let him in (which was very unlikely), he wasn't in the mood to deal with any stuffy Gryffindors tonight.

He figured the library would be a good place to start looking, followed by the Astronomy Tower. If he didn't find her either place, and didn't run into her in the hallways in the meantime, he decided he would give up and just go back to sleep. At least then, he could say he tried. But why was he even bothering, anyway?

The dark hallway stretched out before him like an empty abyss, yet he felt no need to light up his wand. He had these halls memorized so well, he could easily navigate in the dark. He was used to sneaking out late at night with his friends and having to find his way without a light source. He'd never had the luxury, like Harry Potter, of owning an invisibility cloak, so he had to find other means of not getting caught – like merely blending in with the shadows. And he certainly did not want to get caught tonight. What _would_ he tell the teacher who caught him? That he was out after curfew because he was concerned about a bushy-haired mudblood and had decided to go looking for her? Yeah, like they would believe that one.

Whistling softly, Draco made his way toward the library. The halls seemed pretty dead tonight – there didn't even seem to be any prefects running around. Draco was thankful for this, as it made everything a whole lot easier. However, he realized he had made the assumption too early when he heard voices coming from around the next corner. Draco immediately stopped in his tracks and listened.

"_Silencio!_" a male voice called out. The command was followed by snickering.

"Scared yet?" another voice said. Draco began to feel a bit uneasy when he realized that he recognized these voices.

They belonged to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Whoa!" Goyle called out. "Where do you think you're going?" The boy paused for a second, and there was a slight _thud_, as if something had hit the floor. "Hold her down."

_Hold her down?_ Draco groaned inwardly. His friends were obviously up to no good – as usual – but whatever they were doing right now sounded a bit more serious than their normal antics. Even though it was his evening off from duties, Draco knew he would have to step in reprimand his friends before continuing his search for Hermione.

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Draco turned the corner, ready to scold his friends. Instead, he froze in place when he saw the scene in front of him. Crabbe was crouched down, grasping the arms of what looked like a frail girl, pinning her down to the floor. Goyle stood before them, his wand pointed down toward the girl. Draco's breath caught in his throat when he realized that the girl on the floor was _Hermione._

Without even thinking twice, he stormed over to Crabbe, grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him up from the floor with all of his strength and flung him against the wall. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" he yelled, not caring if he attracted the attention of anyone who might be patrolling the halls.

Crabbe stared at him, stunned at first, but then a smile slowly crept over his face. "Draco, how nice of you to join us. I hope you're not mad that we're doing this without you. We didn't bother to ask if you wanted to join us. We thought you had a date with Pansy tonight."

Draco stared incredulously first at Crabbe, and then over at Goyle. His grip tightened on his wand, fighting the sudden urge to impale both of his friends with it. He glanced down at Hermione now, who was slowly lifting herself up from the floor. She appeared to be shaken, frightened and a bit relieved. One single tear traveled down the side of her face.

"What the fuck do you two think you were doing?" Draco asked steadily through clenched teeth. _Stay calm_, he told himself. _You do not want to end up in Azkaban for killing two fucking numskulls – as satisfying as it would be right now._

"We were just having some fun," Goyle replied.

"_Fun_? You call torturing someone _fun_?"

"Yes," Goyle said, "we do. And _you_ used to, too! What the hell is happening to you, Draco?"

Draco felt like someone had just kicked him in the stomach. Goyle was right. There _was_ a day when he would have gotten _extreme_ pleasure out of torturing an innocent mudblood. But what he had just witnessed made him feel sick. What the hell _was_ happening to him?

Trying to decide how he should handle the situation, he finally settled on the idea that he would just deal with them later. And he would make damn sure that he did. But right now, he just wanted to get Hermione back to the common room safe and sound. "Get the fuck out of here, both of you," he grumbled.

Both Crabbe and Goyle hesitated, looking at Draco as if neither of them even recognized him.

"Okay, we'll go," Goyle said finally. He turned to go, but stopped right in front of Hermione. He put on an evil grin and said in a low voice, "We'll continue this later. I promise."

The rage Draco had been so desperately trying to control finally snapped as he lunged himself at Goyle. He secured his hand firmly around Goyle's throat and backed him up against the wall. "You will _not_ continue this later, do you understand me?"

Goyle, wide-eyed from both shock and lack of oxygen to his lungs, nodded quickly.

Draco removed his hand from his best friend's neck. "Good. Now, I'm taking fifty points from each of you."

Goyle's jaw dropped, but Crabbe chuckled. "Good one, Draco."

"This isn't a joke, you moron," Draco said, glaring over at him.

"You can't take points from your own house!" Goyle exclaimed.

"Actually, I _can_. And I just did. Now get out of my sight before I make it _seventy-five_ points."

Crabbe, who was no longer smiling, narrowed his eyes at Draco, as if trying to figure out if he really was serious. Figuring that he most likely _was_ serious, he gave Goyle a pat on the back and mumbled, "Let's get out of here."

Goyle nodded. He avoided Draco's gaze and glared over at Hermione. It looked as though he wanted to say something, but figured it would be best if he didn't. Instead, he just followed Crabbe silently around the corner, and then they were gone.

It was while he was watching them walk away that Draco realized he was shaking – possibly from anger, possibly from something else. He couldn't tell. He spun around and looked at Hermione, who was just staring at him in disbelief – probably because he had just taken a total of one hundred points from his own house. She opened her mouth to speak, and her face fell when she realized that thanks to Goyle's spell, she was unable to.

Draco shook his head at her. He suddenly realized that a lot of the anger he was still feeling was directed at _her_. And before he knew what he was doing, he marched over to her, grabbed her arm tightly and began to drag her back to the common room.

She looked like she wanted to protest. But since she could not vocalize her protest, she tried to resist him at first, trying to pry his hand off her arm. However, once she realized it was no use, she just gave up and let him lead her. Once they had made it back to their common room, Draco mumbled the password. When the portrait hole opened up, he quickly pulled her inside and let go of her arm; his sudden release made her stumble slightly.

"What the _hell_ were doing out in the halls _alone_ this late at night?" he yelled at her.

Hermione stared at him with a frightened expression on her face. She seemed confused as to why he was yelling at _her._ But of course, she could not answer his question, so he went on.

"How many times have I told you that it's not safe for someone like you to be lurking around in the dark by yourself? Are you _stupid_? Do you have a fucking death wish?"

Hermione's lower lip began to tremble. She opened her mouth and tried to speak once more, but no sound came out. Realizing that she was still under the silencing spell, Draco immediately reversed it. The first sound Hermione made was a sob.

Suddenly, Draco felt like the biggest jackass in the world. He was taking his anger and frustration out on the _victim_. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help but be mad at her right now. She had done something incredibly foolish, and she had almost paid the price for it.

"Why were you out so late?" he demanded.

Hermione glared up at him. "Aren't you forgetting something? You kicked me _out_."

_Oh yeah_…Refusing to take any responsibility for this, he said, "Yes, I kicked you out. But you were supposed to be off playing with your little Gryffindor mates, not getting attacked in the hallway."

"I _told_ you I had nowhere to go!" she cried. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

She was right. She _had_ told him that, and he had ignored her. "Yeah, well…I didn't think you _meant_ it."

"Well, I _did _mean it," she said quietly as tears began sliding down her cheeks.

Draco's anger quickly subsided as he stared down at Hermione. He sighed and said in a soft tone, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Hermione wiped away her tears and glared up at him again. "Oh what, so _now_ you suddenly care what's wrong with me? Now that your little trollop friend isn't here? How sweet. I'm so flattered that you care," she said sarcastically, "but I really don't feel like discussing _anything_ with you." She turned away from him and threw herself down onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook slightly as she began to sob.

"I do care, you know," he blurted out without meaning to.

Hermione sniffled and glanced up at him in surprise. She didn't dare ask him to validate his statement for fear that he would tell her he was just kidding. But she didn't have to. The fact that he was now taking a seat beside her on the couch was validation enough.

"What happened?" he asked her once more.

"I can't talk about it," she said softly, avoiding his gaze. "If I tell you, you'll just…be a jerk about it."

"Probably," Draco said with a slight smile, "but me being a jerk will most likely take your mind off whatever problem you're having."

Hermione smiled back. "Probably." She sighed. "It has to do with Harry."

Draco couldn't help but groan at the name.

"See? I knew I wouldn't be able to talk about this with you -"

"No, Granger, I'm sorry - go on. I'll be good. I promise."

Hermione took another deep breath, as if hesitating to go on. But finally she said in a small voice, "I just found out tonight that…Harry has invited Ginny to the Yule Ball."

Draco snorted. Hermione glared at him.

"Forget it," she said, getting up from the couch. "I should have known better than to tell you _anything_!"

"I'm sorry," he said again. He reached up and grabbed her arm, pulling her down onto the couch again. "It was just a reflex, I couldn't help it. It's just…_that's_ what has you so upset? I thought you were going to tell me Potter died, or something."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry you can't understand why this might bother me. But then, why _would_ you understand? You've never been in love before."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "Wait, you're admitting to me that you've been in love with Potter all along? Just as I had suspected?"

"Go ahead and gloat over your superior ability to know when somebody has a crush on Harry Potter."

"Thanks," Draco said with a grin. "I will. But first, let me ask you – why are you so _damned_ upset that Potter has a crush on the Weaslette, when you _should_ be thanking your lucky stars?"

Hermione stared at him. "I should be thankful that Harry loves someone else?"

"No, you should be thankful that you're finding out sooner, rather than later, that Potter is a stupid git."

"Oh yeah? And how do you figure that Harry is a _stupid git_?"

"Oh, please, Granger. You've been in love with Potter for, what, at least a couple of years? And he's been completely oblivious to it the whole time? Even _I_ could see that you had the warm and fuzzies for him. If he can't see that, then he must be brain-dead. Granger, you're the smartest student in this school. Even _you_ can do better than Harry _fucking_ Potter."

Hermione stared down at her hands. "Or maybe…maybe he _has_ known all along, but he's just chosen to ignore it. I mean, it would be easier that way for him, than to have to confront me about it. I'm no Ginny Weasley, you know. I'm not…beautiful or popular or…anything, really. I'm just…plain, boring Hermione Granger."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, right. Come on, Granger, you're so much more than that, and you know it. And I can't believe you're going to make me point this out to you. You are the smartest witch of your age, and every single teacher, with the exception of Snape, has told you this. They practically _drool _every time you raise your hand to answer a question. And on top of being book smart, you are incredibly witty. If the truth were known, I actually _enjoy_ arguing with you because you're always quick with a comeback, and you're the _only_ person who has ever been able to leave me without a retort. And sure – you're no Ginny Weasely, but you're _hardly_ the most unattractive person in the world. I've seen _plenty_ of house elves that would look ugly next to you, and maybe even some humans, too. Pansy comes to mind."

Hermione giggled. She'd been staring at Draco the whole time he was talking, and she couldn't tell if he was for real or not. Because if she didn't know any better, she would have thought that Draco Malfoy had just complimented her.

Draco smiled. "See? I told you that I would take your mind off of your problem. Which, by the way, I don't think is really much of a problem at all. So, Potter likes the Weaslette. You should be happy for them. Hasn't that girl been in love with him since she was about five, or something? And Potter is not the only boy worthy of your love, you know. I'm sure there are _plenty_ of other unfortunate souls out there just waiting to put the moves on you. Just you wait."

"You are the master of backhanded compliments, do you know that?"

"I am the master of a _lot_ of things," Draco said, grinning mischeviously. "Just ask any girl I've ever dated."

"I'd rather not," Hermione said, grinning. She stood up from the couch and yawned. "Gosh, I'm tired. It's been a long night. I'm going to bed now."

"Good idea," Draco said, standing up as well. A moment of awkwardness suddenly passed between them.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Hey, listen, um…thank you."

"For what?"

"Well, for one, saving me from your friends tonight."

Draco cringed when she referred to them as his 'friends'. "No problem," he said coolly.

"But seriously, thank you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't showed up…"

_Draco_ knew what would have happened. He had been friends with those guys for over six years now. He knew perfectly well what they were capable of. Suddenly, he had an overwhelming feeling of relief that he had showed up when he did. "You're welcome."

"I can't believe you took all those points from them," she said, shaking her head.

"They're just lucky I didn't take more. They're just lucky they didn't hurt you, or I would have…" His voice trailed off as he chose not to tell her what he would have done to them if that had happened. It wouldn't be a very nice thing to say.

Hermione glanced down at her feet. "Well, so I just wanted to thank you for that, and for trying to talk some sense into me about Harry."

"Anytime."

Hermione shifted her gaze toward him and rocked slightly on her heel. "Okay, well…goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

What happened next surprised both of them equally: Hermione lifted herself up on her toes and planted a quick, gentle kiss on Draco's cheek. When she pulled away, her face was burning bright red. Draco had to wonder if maybe his was too.

Quickly, she stepped back. Regaining her composure, she cleared her throat and said, "Just to let you know, your secret's safe with me. I won't tell anyone that you're capable of being a nice guy." With a grin and a wink, she turned on her heel and headed straight to her bedroom.

Draco just stood there feeling slightly numb. Hermione Granger, the girl he had taunted and tormented for the last six years, had just kissed him on the cheek. Who would have ever seen _that_ coming? He was so distracted by it, that he didn't even realize he was heading to his own bedroom – and with a big, goofy smile plastered to his face.

He was beginning to think that maybe, just _maybe_, being a nice guy wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

"Close your eyes," she whispered into his ear. The feel of her breath against his skin sent chills down his spine.

Still, he managed to fight all feelings of arousal and say, "No."

"No?" She sat up in the bed. "Why not?"

He sighed. "Because I know the second that I do, you'll leave."

She giggled. "O, ye of little faith. What makes you think I would do something like that?"

He stared at her. "Because you do it every time."

She shrugged. "Well, maybe this time, it will be different. Maybe this time, I have a surprise. A pleasant one."

"I doubt that."

"Well, why don't you just try it and find out? What do you have to lose?"

"_You_."

She smiled. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "You will never lose me. Now _close your eyes_."

He didn't want to, he really didn't. But just looking at her pleading face…so beautiful and innocent…he realized that turning down her wishes was not an option.

"Pretty please?" she said, batting her eyelashes. "Do it for me?"

"Fine," he mumbled. He closed his eyes. He did it for her.

For a few brief moments, there was nothing but complete silence. He wanted to open his eyes, to see if she was still there, but he knew he couldn't until she told him to.

"Okay," she whispered into his ear. He could no longer feel her breath up against him.

"_Open your eyes_."

Draco's eyes flew open in an instant. He gasped and sat up, immediately glancing around the room, looking for Hermione. Of course, she was not there. She had left him, as usual. Or rather, _he_ had left _her._ Instead of opening his eyes in his dream, he had simply woken up. It was just as well. He wasn't sure he would have been able to handle the ending of another one of those dreams.

His heart was racing, and his mouth felt bone-dry. Those dreams usually took a lot out of him. He had a sudden urge to go to Hermione's room, but he stopped himself this time. He had to stop this. He couldn't keep doing this.

Instead, he got up off the bed and stretched, figuring the best thing to do right now would be to go get a glass of water. He was heading to the door when he heard a _thump_ come from out in the common room. He froze, listening closer. The next sound he heard was a cough.

He groaned. Another unwanted guest? This would be the third one in the past couple of days. He made a mental note to try and find some sort of spell that would turn anyone who broke into his common room into a leper. He smiled at the thought. Grabbing his wand, he opened his door as quietly as he could.

Who would he find out there? Pansy, or Dumbledore? Or perhaps, somebody completely different? Maybe Potter had decided to join in. Maybe he was coming to claim Hermione's belongings in the middle of the night, as to avoid any sort of confrontation with Draco.

"_Lumos_," he mumbled. His wand obediently lit up at his request.

"Who's in here?" he called out. "Who dares awaken me from my slumber? Who -"

Draco's voice trailed off as he neared the center of the common room. The light of his wand exposed a girl crouched down on the floor, her back to him. He could tell even from the back that she wasn't Pansy. Or Dumbledore.

"Who…who are you?" he asked, taking a few steps closer to her.

The girl remained perfectly still, and Draco had to wonder if she was even alive. His pulse started racing. What the hell was going on?

"Answer me," he demanded. "I said, who _are_ you, and why are you -"

Draco was cut short when the girl in front of him slowly turned her head to look at him.

His eyes immediately widened, and he dropped his wand to the floor. He stumbled back a few steps. "What the…"

The girl on the floor in front of him…the one looking confused and a bit frightened…he knew her. He knew her damn well. And even before he could see her entire face in the dimly lit room, he knew it was her.

Slowly, he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. "_Hermione_?"

* * *


	6. Mirror Image

**Author's Note:** Ahh! Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I was so pleasantly surprised not only to find out people still like this story, but that some of you are willing to give me _cookies_ and _cupcakes_ in exchange for updates! Seriously, you guys rock. All of you! xoxo

Now, with that said, I hope you all still like my story after this chapter. Heh. That is all I will say for now. ;)

**Disclaimer:** In my little fantasy world, I not only own the rights to the Harry Potter books, but I also own the rights to the movies as well. But in my little _reality_, all I own is this silly little fan fic. :(

* * *

His dreams had never felt this real before. 

The only light emanating through the room at this moment was the moonlight. Was there a full moon tonight, he wondered? There must be. It seemed awfully bright. Although, it would probably seem brighter in his dream regardless, because _anything_ was possible in a dream. For instance, it was possible for Hermione Granger to be staring up at him from the floor right now - because it was just a dream.

Once he had assured himself three times that this indeed was still just a part of his dream, Draco began to breathe again. As he bent down to retrieve his wand, the girl – Hermione – slowly stood up from the floor. He stared at her as she glanced around the room; a curious look adorning her features.

"So much for pleasant surprises," he muttered.

The girl jumped at the sound of his voice and gazed over at him. "Malfoy?"

"So, I take it that the _surprise_ is the fact that you're still here? Or do you have something else planned for me?" he continued.

The girl suddenly looked crestfallen. "I'm…still here?"

"Obviously," Draco replied.

She frowned. She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly, as if trying to clear her thoughts. A look of confusion flashed across her face. "I'm still here," she repeated in a whisper. This time, it was not a question; rather it sounded more like an observation. Slowly, she sat down on the couch and buried her face in her hands.

Draco sighed in annoyance. This was unlike any other dream he'd had about Hermione before. And he wasn't enjoying it at all. So, he decided to end it. "Well, this has been fun. I'm going back to bed."

The girl took her hands away from her face and stared up at him. But she did not say a word.

He turned to leave but at the last minute stopped, spinning back around to face her. "No, wait, on second thought, I think I'll stick this one out till the end." He plopped down into one of the armchairs across from the couch and smirked at her.

"_Stick this one out_?" she said, shaking her head. "I don't understand…"

"The dream, Granger. You said you had a pleasant surprise for me, and I would like to find out what that is before I wake up."

"Pleasant surprise? Wake up?" Her look of confusion lingered for a moment before turning into a look of realization. "Wait…you think…you think this is a dream." Again, there was no question in her voice. She was stating it as a fact. "Why would you think this is a dream?"

"Well, hmm. I don't know, Granger. Could it be the fact that I'm sitting here talking to you, even though you're _dead_?"

The girl's mouth dropped open. "I'm _dead_?" She paused, then said, "_Oh_…I'm _dead_…"

Draco stared at the girl with an amused expression. He didn't like this dream's Hermione. All she really seemed to be good at was repeating everything he said. He stood up from the chair. "On second thought, Granger, I've changed my mind. I'm going back to sleep. Now, just for future reference - if you're going to insist on haunting my dreams, can you at least try and be a little more entertaining?"

"Malfoy, I -"

"Save it, Granger. I'm going back to bed, and I'm going to try and wake myself up from this nightmare." He began to head back toward his room.

"Wait, Malfoy!" the girl called after him. "Stop, please."

For some inexplicable reason, Draco obeyed. Perhaps it was because deep down, he was interested in seeing how exactly this dream would play out. He turned around once more to face her.

She was staring up at him from the couch with wide, excited eyes, and suddenly she no longer seemed as bewildered as she had just moments before. In fact, it looked like she had just had some sort of epiphany, and now she wanted to share it with him.

"This is going to sound really weird, but I think I have it figured out." She did not look at him as she spoke. Rather, it appeared as though maybe she wasn't even talking to him at all, but to herself. Finally, though, she glanced back up at him and said, "Maybe you should sit down for this."

"I don't mind standing," Draco said. "Could you please hurry this up?"

She got up from the couch and immediately started pacing back and forth in front of him. "This is so weird. I mean, you're probably not going to believe me. And I will understand completely if you don't. This all just seems a little surreal -"

"Spit it_ out_, Granger. I'd like to wake up before the weekend is over."

Hermione stopped pacing and looked at him. "Okay, first of all, I know you are thinking this is some sort of a dream. But I can assure you that it is _not_."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "Trust me, I know when I'm dreaming about you. You see, this _has_ to be a dream, because if it isn't, then my mind is playing tricks on me. See, because you're _dead_, Granger. Or, at least, you will be in a few seconds. You always do that."

Hermione glanced sideways at him, as if trying to figure out what he was talking about. Giving a slight shrug, she continued. "Look…whoever you think I am…I'm not her."

"Okay…" Draco said, crossing his arms and smirking at her. "Then who are you?"

"I'm Hermione Granger."

"Okay, then you _are_ who I think you are."

"But -"

"I have to say this is the most annoying dream I've had in a _long_ time -"

"This is _not_ a dream!" Hermione cried. Her voice was suddenly so loud it caught Draco off guard. "Does this really feel like a dream to you? Honestly, does it? Because it sure feels real to _me_."

"That's it," Draco said, taking a few steps back from the girl in front of him. "I've had enough of this dream. No offense, but your pleasant surprise _sucked_." And with that, he turned and headed back to his room, ignoring Hermione as she called out to him once more. He stepped foot inside the door to his bedroom and slammed it shut behind him. This was by far the worst of all the dreams he'd had of Hermione so far, and that included the ones where she died horribly at the end.

Slowly, he crept back into his bed. It seemed weird…going to bed to _wake up_ from a dream, rather than to _fall asleep_ and dream. But since he had so far failed to wake up any other way, he figured perhaps the only way would be to go to sleep _in_ his dream. So he closed his eyes the second his head hit the pillow and pleaded with himself to "fall asleep" as fast as he could. He wanted this nightmare over with.

Before he drifted off to sleep, Draco half-expected to see Hermione appear once more by his side. But she never did. And for that, he was thankful.

* * *

**_November 15th_**

It was almost like the night before had never happened.

The morning after Draco had saved Hermione from his two best friends was like every other morning – Draco got up, walked over to the bathroom to take a shower - only to realize it was being occupied by Hermione, and decided instead to grab one of his school books and pretend to be reading it. That way, when Hermione finally came out of the bathroom, she would choose not to speak with him, not wanting to interfere with something as important as studying.

Not that he was avoiding her. No – that was a little hard to do, considering they lived together. Still, he wasn't exactly in the mood to talk with her that morning, for fear that she might start thanking him again for saving her, and thanking him for being…_nice_ to her. Draco cringed at the memory. He had a feeling he would regret everything he had said and done the night before.

The minute he sat down to read, Hermione exited the bathroom, her hair still a little damp from her shower. The second she stepped into the common room, the air was filled with the scent of strawberries and vanilla – no doubt from whatever shampoo and soap she'd used. Draco took in a deep breath, savoring the scent…until he reminded himself that it was _Granger_ he thought smelled so nice, and then decided to breathe through his mouth until the scent died down.

"Good morning," she said brightly.

Draco suppressed a groan. Oh great - she thought they were best friends now. "'Morning," he mumbled back unenthusiastically, making it a point not to look up from his book.

He expected her to start some sort of friendly conversation – one that would last until they had to go to class – but instead, all she said was, "The bathroom is all yours. I'll see you later." And with that, she left.

Draco closed his book and stared after her. That was kind of weird. It wasn't like Granger to not try and spark up some kind of conversation with him. Even on the days they weren't getting along, she would try to talk to him. He thought today of all days she would attempt play her usual _buddy_ routine with him. But perhaps, he figured, she felt as uncomfortable about last night as _he_ did. Shrugging to himself, he decided he really didn't care why she was so antisocial this morning.

After a long shower, Draco headed out for breakfast. He wasn't exactly looking forward to it – mainly because he didn't care to encounter Pansy. Talk about feeling uncomfortable. He had kicked her out last night, right in the middle of a make-out session. And he had to wonder if maybe she was a bit suspicious as to the _reason_ why he kicked her out. Knowing Pansy, she probably thought it had something to do with Granger. She could be quite the paranoid girlfriend when she wanted to be.

Deciding he wanted to arrive to breakfast as late as possible, Draco took the long way to the Great Hall – which involved passing by the Slytherin tower. However, deep down he knew that his little detour had less to do with wanting to be late for breakfast, and more to do with hoping he could catch Crabbe and Goyle by themselves. It was his lucky morning.

The two lugs were just coming out of the portrait hole as Draco approached. At first, they were too busy pushing each other and laughing to even notice him. But once they did, their laughter stopped.

"Has anyone ever told you two that you are a couple of fucking morons?" was Draco's greeting.

Crabbe and Goyle both stopped directly in front of Draco with guilty looks on their faces.

"What the hell were you guys doing last night?"

Crabbe shrugged. "We were just having some fun."

Draco snorted. "Fun? Do you even realize what that _fun_ could have cost you? If you'd been caught by anyone but me, you would have been _expelled_ from Hogwarts. Both of you. And if you had _hurt_ her, your punishment would have been far worse. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Look," Goyle said, "we're sorry, okay? It's not like we set out with a plan to attack her, you know? We were just walking along, minding our own business, and then she appeared out of nowhere – alone and vulnerable. You'd have to be crazy to pass up an opportunity like that."

Draco gritted his teeth at that comment. He had the sudden urge to throttle his friend, but managed to keep his cool. It wasn't safe to attack his best friend in broad daylight. He wasn't about to lose his Head Boy badge over an imbecile like Goyle.

"Yeah, well, if that opportunity ever rises again, you'd better not take it. Do you understand me?" Draco took a step closer to Goyle and stared him down. Next to a couple of hefty boys like Crabbe and Goyle, Draco appeared a bit scrawny. But both boys knew Draco was a lot stronger than he looked. "If you so much as _look_ at Granger the wrong way again, I will make sure you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

Goyle frowned and nodded. He took a step back. "I don't know what's happened to you, Draco," he said sadly.

Before Draco could respond, Goyle nudged Crabbe and the two boys quickly brushed past him. As he turned around to watch them go, he caught sight of Pansy, standing not too far away. She acknowledged Crabbe and Goyle with a nod as they walked by, and then looked over at Draco with a pained expression on her face.

"I forgot one of my books," she said quietly as she approached him. It appeared as though she was just going to continue on past him, but she stopped once she was behind him. Without looking at him, she added, "I'm going to pretend that you just threatened Goyle only because you're concerned about him getting expelled."

Draco turned around to look at her. He expected her to look angry, but was surprised instead to see that she looked rather…_sad_. Fuck. She knew. She had heard the whole conversation, and somehow, she _knew_.

"Pansy," he murmered. He walked over to her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder, turning her around to face him.

She glanced up at him with glistening eyes. "Do you love her?" she whispered in a shaky voice.

The blunt question took him by surprise. There was no beating around the bush where Pansy was concerned. She was a straightforward kind of girl.

Draco faltered a bit. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The answer should have been easy, and he should have had no problem in just saying _no_. But he realized suddenly that he was unable to give any sort of answer at all. So instead, he leaned forward and brushed his lips softly against hers. "_You're_ my girl, Pansy."

It wasn't an actual answer, he knew, but it seemed to satisfy her nevertheless. She smiled as she pulled away from him. Without saying another word to him, she muttered the password to the portrait and disappeared behind the door.

Draco sighed. This was certainly the wake-up call he needed. He had been so busy acting like Granger's protective guardian that he never stopped and realized how it must look to people on the outside. He could not afford to have anyone suspecting he had _feelings_ for the mudblood. Not only would it be bad for his reputation, but he shuddered to think about how his fellow Slytherins would handle the news – even if it was _inaccurate_ news - and what they would do to him for it. And what they would do to _her_.

When Draco finally made it to the Great Hall that morning, he sat next to Pansy, occasionally leaning in to whisper sweet nothings into her ear, to which she would respond with a giggle. He spoke to Crabbe and Goyle as if he'd never threatened them – and since they were a couple of idiots, they went along with it as if nothing had ever happened either. Occasionally, Draco would sneak a glance over to the Gryffindor table, where Hermione was completely oblivious to him. Some of the time, she looked lost in thought; other times she would smile slightly at something someone said to her.

But there was the one time he glanced over at her, and she was gazing across the table at Harry with a smile on her face. Actually, she wasn't just smiling - she was _beaming_. Harry never seemed to notice, though. He just kept on talking with Ron, probably about Quidditch, and he remained completely ignorant to the fact that the girl in front of him was hopelessly in love with him.

_How stupid can one guy be?_ Draco wondered. He smirked. Obviously, Hermione wasn't going to be taking his advice and getting over Harry Potter any time soon. As soon as that realization hit him, Draco tried to assure himself that he didn't care. But he _did_ care. He cared that she was wasting her time being in love with someone who didn't love her back, instead of glancing up and seeing what was right in front of her.

And suddenly he realized that if he had been able to respond to Pansy's question earlier, his answer most likely would have been _yes_.

* * *

Draco woke up alone. As soon as his eyes fluttered open, he glanced around the room, making sure no one had broken in during the night and taken it upon themselves to watch over him as he slept. He pinched himself to make sure he was really awake this time. So far, so good. 

He yawned as he climbed out of bed. He felt surprisingly well rested, despite the restless night of sleep he must have had, due to crazy dreams. He wanted to just forget about it – about the dream, about _her_. Hell, he just wanted to forget about _everything_ that had happened in the past couple of months. As annoying as his dream had been, it made him realize that maybe it was time he moved on. He'd been _wanting_ to move on for a while now, but he'd never quite had the ambition to do it. But he could not take any more of those dreams. They needed to stop now – for the sake of his sanity. So he planned to do everything in his power to get Hermione out of his mind.

Starting right now. As he walked to the bathroom, he planned out what he was going to do today. It was Saturday, so he didn't have to worry about classes. Perhaps he would go to Hogsmeade with Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle. Perhaps he could show them that he was still the same old Draco they used to know and worship. As he took a shower, he brainstormed ideas on how to make it up to Pansy for being such a prat to her. He was sure it wouldn't be too hard. For some reason, Pansy was real forgiving when it came to Draco. Maybe it was because she loved him. Or maybe because she just loved the _thought_ of loving him. Either way, she would most likely accept any apology that she got from him, so he wasn't too worried.

As he walked back out into the common room, he thought about how maybe later on, after he'd hung out with his friend for most of the day, he would catch up on some of the schoolwork he'd been avoiding. He thought about whom Dumbledore could possibly be choosing as the next Head Girl, and he hoped she at least wasn't a Gryffindor. He thought about how –

"Good morning."

Startled by the voice that was coming from across the room, Draco jumped slightly and mumbled a few expletives. He spun around and found himself once again face-to-face with Hermione Granger. His breath caught in his throat.

"Still think you're dreaming?"

Draco froze. He suddenly found himself unable to speak.

"It's so weird," she said softly, walking around the common room, running her hands over everything she walked by – the couch, the chair, the table. "So much of this is the same, you know? It's almost like a mirror image."

"W-who are you?" Draco demanded. He was starting to experience déjà vu.

Looking at the girl, she resembled Hermione a great deal, but in the daylight Draco noticed there were quite a few differences as well - starting with the fact her hair was smooth and straight, instead of just a mess of frizzy curls. Her attire, while resembling that of Hogwart's school uniform, was noticeably less…modest, with a skirt that only came down midway on her thigh, instead of to her knees, and a white collared shirt that was unbuttoned at the top. And makeup – this girl was wearing makeup – something Hermione only ever wore when she was attending a special event such as the Yule Ball. She looked like she would have easily fit in with Pansy's clique. But her eyes - her big, brown, sparkling eyes - those were Hermione's eyes. Draco could recognize them anywhere.

"I already told you who I am," she said simply. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"No," Draco said, shaking his head. "You're not Hermione Granger. You can't be."

The girl sighed. "Do you want to sit down _this_ time, maybe?"

Yes, he _did_ want to, because suddenly he was feeling very weak. Because he hated to admit it, but it just didn't feel like a dream this time. _But how could this not be a dream?_

Slowly taking a seat, he said, "What the _hell_ is going on here?"

The girl - Hermione - began to pace back and forth, much like she had done the night before. "This is going to sound silly and farfetched, and you probably aren't going to believe a word I say, but I had all night while you slept to think of how I was going to explain this so…"

"Okay," Draco interjected, "then explain it to me."

She took a deep breath and began her story…

* * *

Author's Note #2: Well...so things didn't exactly get explained too well in this chapter. I decided to wait until the next chapter to get into it, because otherwise, this chapter would have been way too long. Ack...hopefully some of you are still reading this, and hopefully some of you will make it to the next chapter. I'm starting to realize that the idea I've had in my head for this story is a little more difficult to write than I thought. So if the next few chapters suck, that is why! Oh, and...sorry if this chapter just seems a little weird... 


	7. Doppelganger

**Author's Note:** Thanks once again for all of the reviews. I heart each and every one of you! Keep the cake/cupcakes/other assorted goodies coming. :)**  
**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the idea behind Harry Potter, nor do I own any of the characters. I do own the books, though. They take up quite a bit of room on my bookshelf.

* * *

"What the _hell_ is going on here?" 

The girl began to pace back and forth, much like she had done the night before. "This is going to sound silly and farfetched, and you probably aren't going to believe a word I say, but I had all night while you slept to think of how I was going to explain this so…"

She took a deep breath and began her story.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said slowly. "I'm just…not the Hermione Granger you think I am. Does that make any sense?"

Draco just stared blankly at her.

"Of course it doesn't make any sense," she mumbled. "Oh gosh, how can I explain this? I'm…not from this world."

"_Not from this world_?" Draco said incredulously. He shook his head. "You're right, I don't believe you. So tell me who you _really_ are, and what kind of spell you are using to make yourself…appear _this way_."

"No, just listen!" she exclaimed. Her pacing became faster before she finally stopped and took a seat in one of the chairs. "There _was_ a spell involved, but not the kind of spell you are thinking of. Look, I know this must seem kind of weird and a bit…_impossible_ to you – seeing me here and all, but…I really am not from this world. I've just sort of…jumped planes, I guess you could say."

"_Jumped planes_?" Draco snorted. He rubbed his temples, trying to soothe the searing pain that was suddenly shooting through his head. "So you're telling me that you're Hermione Granger…from a alternate universe? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes!" Hermione said excitedly, jumping out of her seat. "That's exactly what I'm saying! You _do_ understand!"

"Oh, I understand perfectly fine," Draco mumbled. He began to chuckle. "I understand that I am going fucking insane. I mean, the dreams were bad enough, but at least then I had an excuse to be seeing you. At least then I could say I had no control over whether or not you appeared to me. But _now_ I've managed to concoct some fucking ridiculous alternate version of you in my head and I'm seeing you when I'm awake? Yes, I understand - I need help."

Hermione's smile quickly faded. "You don't believe me. I can't say as if I blame you, but why are you so hell-bent on convincing yourself that I'm just a figment of your imagination?"

Draco buried his face in his hands. He thought maybe if he closed his eyes and concentrated long enough, when he opened his eyes again, she'd be gone. But when he opened them back up, she was still there – this imposter Hermione. In fact, she was kneeling right in front of him, staring up at him with Hermione's signature big brown eyes.

Reaching out, she placed her hand on his arm. "Can figments of your imagination touch you, and can you feel them when they do?" she asked softly.

As he stared into her eyes, Draco was overcome with a sudden rush of emotions – confusion, sadness and excitement. No dream had ever felt this real before, and no figment of his imagination could ever be this accurate. The girl kneeling before him was _real_ – he could see her, feel her and smell her – she smelled like vanilla and strawberries. Draco's breath hitched in his throat. "_How is this possible_?"

Slowly, Hermione began to smile again. She sat atop the table in front of him and stared down at her hands. "Honestly? I don't quite know, myself. This is all a bit weird for me too, you know? I mean, I knew what I was doing with that spell, but…I wasn't expecting _this_." She motioned around the room with her hands.

Draco sat back on the couch. He shook his head slightly, asking himself why he was humoring this girl. But suddenly, he wanted to know everything. So he asked, "What do you mean, you weren't expecting _this_?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, so far, this world appears to be practically identical to my own. Of course, I'm only basing this fact on you and this room – you're both identical in my world. But still…I wasn't expecting on landing in a world so similar to my own. And at first, I thought I hadn't landed anywhere at all. When I got here, I thought I was still in my old world, and that the spell had failed. That's why I probably seemed so strange to you last night."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "If what you are telling me is true…why are you here?"

Hermione sighed. She stood up and began to walk slowly around the room. "I couldn't stay in my world."

"Why not?"

"It's a long story," she replied.

"And I've got all day to hear it," Draco said.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, and then said, "It was either leave my world, or die. I chose the first option."

"That was a fairly _short_ story."

"Yes, well…it's the only story I really care to give right now. I promise I will tell you more later."

"You're right," Draco said, "you will. You will tell both me _and_ Dumbledore."

Hermione's eyes widened a bit. "Dumbledore," she said pleasantly. "I sure hope he's the same Dumbledore from _my_ world."

"Ancient? All-knowing? Intrusive? Shaggy?"

Hermione smiled. "Wise. Caring. Soft-spoken. Friendly."

Draco sneered. "Sounds identical. We can go see him now if you'd like…"

"No, not yet," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I'm not ready yet. I just need a little time to adjust here. I need to clear my mind first. Traveling to an alternate dimension is taxing, you know?" She gave him a weak grin.

No, he didn't know. He didn't know what traveling to another universe was like. Up until just a few minutes ago, he hadn't even been positive that _plane jumping_ was even possible. Yet, the girl in front of him had clearly succeeded in doing just that. As much as he didn't want to believe her, he felt he had no other choice. It was either believe she was from an alternate universe, or believe he was going completely insane. He liked the first choice better.

"So…where is her bedroom?" Hermione asked.

"In the same spot it is in _your_ world, I imagine," Draco replied. When Hermione began glanced around the room in search of it, Draco added, "It's over there," and pointed to the door.

"Thanks," she said. "If you don't mind, I think maybe I'll go -"

She was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Fuck," Draco groaned. Standing up, he said, "Go in the bedroom and stay there. _Do not come out_ until I tell you it's safe to, alright?"

Hermione nodded. She hurried over to the bedroom and disappeared behind the door. Once she was out of sight, Draco made his way over to the portrait hole. He wondered who would be coming to visit so early on a Saturday morning. He figured it probably wasn't Pansy – she liked to sleep in on the weekends. It was most likely Dumbledore, coming to lecture him again. Deep down, he almost hoped it _was_ Dumbledore. The old man could most likely help him with his little alternate dimension Hermione problem.

Draco opened the portrait hole, but who stood on the other end was not the person he was hoping it would be. In fact, it was the _two_ people he least wanted to deal with at the moment: Ronald Weasley…and Harry Potter.

Bloody hell.

* * *

** December 13th **

Once the realization had sunk in that he could possibly have more-than-animosity feelings toward Hermione, Draco set out to make damn sure those feelings went away. So the first thing he did was make it a point to spend more quality time with Pansy. The second thing he did was make it a point to spend _less_ quality time with _Hermione_. He avoided being in the same room as her when they were in their living quarters at the same time – for instance, every morning he would listen carefully at his bedroom door for the sound of the portrait hole closing. That was usually a safe time for him to come out. Sure, he'd have to then rush around quickly to get ready for classes, but it was worth it.

However, one place Draco could not avoid Hermione was class – specifically, on this particular day, _Transfiguration_ class.

He was minding his own business, paying no attention to what Professor McGonagall was talking about in front of the class, when he suddenly got the bright idea to ask Pansy to the Yule Ball. There was little doubt that she had been hoping that he would ask her, but he had kept putting it off for unknown reasons. But now, there was no time like the present, so he wrote her a note saying, _Will you accompany me to the Yule Ball?_ and floated it on over to her when McGonagall's back was turned to the class.

Seconds later, he heard a squeal coming from the back of the class. Draco turned around to see Pansy grinning from ear to ear. When their eyes met, she emphatically nodded her head.

McGonagall stopped talking and spun around. "Miss Parkinson," she said in a low voice, "is there a problem?"

Pansy's grin subsided only slightly as she shook her head and said, "No, Professor. I just…thought I saw a spider, that's all."

Draco smirked, as McGonagall seemed to accept Pansy's answer and continued on with her lesson. He winked at Pansy and turned back around in his seat. As he did so, his gaze met with Hermione's and his smirk immediately vanished.

She gave him a curious look, complete with a slight frown. Draco shrugged as if to say he had no idea what was up with Pansy, and she turned her attention back to McGonagall. But Draco's gaze lingered on Hermione for a moment, silently willing her to look back at him again. For what exact reason, he did not know.

She never did glance back, though. Minutes later, the bell rang and she stood up and began to place her books back into her bag. Draco began to do the same. When he heard Pansy call out his name from the back of the room, he pretended not to hear her.

"Class dismissed," McGonagall said, even though half of the students were already gone. "Oh, Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy," she added, "may I please have a word with you both?"

Finally, Hermione glanced back at Draco. She had a puzzled look on her face, and once again Draco slightly shrugged. Both left their book bags on the their desks and followed McGonagall to the head of the classroom, where she took a seat at her desk.

"As I'm sure you are both well-aware," she said, looking up them over her spectacles, "the Yule Ball is coming up." When Draco and Hermione both nodded, she continued. "Well, I just wanted to give you fair warning that you two will be expected to…_dance_ together."

"_What?_" Hermione exploded. Draco grimaced at the sound of disgust in her voice. He opened his mouth to complain as well, but McGonagall continued on.

"It is customary for the Head Boy and Girl to start off the Ball with a dance together. Don't worry; it's just one dance. We aren't expecting you to be each other's date. I just thought I would give you a heads up so that perhaps you can prepare. I assume you both know _how_ to dance?"

Hermione shook her head. "But Professor…I can't…I mean…I wasn't planning on even _going_ to the Yule Ball."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't been aware of this news, and frankly he was shocked to hear it. Granger wasn't going to the Yule Ball?

"Miss Granger, I'm afraid this is Hogwarts tradition, you _have_ to go -"

"With all due respect, Professor, I really do not want to go, and I'm not planning on it. Thank you very much."

It was McGonagall's turn to be shocked. "Miss Granger, I wasn't asking if you'd like to go to the Yule Ball. I was _telling_ you that you are going. And that is final."

"But -"

"I do not want to hear it," McGonagall said, waving her hand dismissively. "You will at least show up for the dance with the Head Boy. After that, I do not care what you do. Stay, leave – it's up to you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Hermione opened her mouth as if to speak again, but quickly shut it. She must have figured it would be useless to argue. So instead, she marched over to her desk in a huff, grabbed her bag and headed for the door. Quickly, Draco followed at her heels and caught up with her just outside of the classroom.

"So I take it you don't have a date to the Yule Ball," he said, breaking into stride next to her.

Hermione glared at him and picked up her pace a bit. "Sod off, Malfoy. I'm not in the mood."

"Hey," he said defensively, "I wasn't trying to taunt you. I was merely making an educated guess. And I'm assuming it was a _good_ guess."

"Well, congratulations. You guessed correctly. Now _sod off_. Please."

"Granger, it's nothing to be embarrassed about," Draco said, trying hard to ignore how relieved he felt to learn she was dateless. "And it's not as if the Yule Ball is tonight, or anything. There is still enough time for you to be asked by somebody."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Right," she said sarcastically. "There is still enough time for some – what was the term you used – _unfortunate soul_ to ask me? Oh, the anticipation." She rolled her eyes. Draco grinned.

"Now it's _my_ turn to make an educated guess," Hermione continued, obviously anxious to get the topic of conversation off herself. "You're taking Pansy to the Ball."

"Wow, you and I have got to be two of the best guessers in this school," Draco said.

"Mmhmm." Hermione smiled. "And let me take yet _another_ guess and say that I'll bet you asked her via note-passing in Transfiguration today. Am I right?"

Draco smirked. "That you are, Granger. Tell me, how did you figure it out?"

"She seemed _way_ too happy for somebody who had thought she had just seen a spider." Hermione chuckled. "That girl is easily excited, isn't she?"

Draco laughed. "Yeah, you'd be surprised at what kind of things make Pansy squeal."

Hermione's face turned a light shade of pink and suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"Hmm…that sounded bad, didn't it?" Draco said with a chuckle.

"That it did, Malfoy," Hermione said, smiling slightly. She cleared her throat. "Well anyway, I told Ginny and Luna I'd meet up with them before lunch, so…I guess I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Hermione nodded and turned to go, but Draco stopped her. "Wait, Granger -"

"Hmm?" She spun back around to look at him.

He paused for a moment, and then said, "You, me, tonight, common room, dance practice."

Hermione smirked. "Fine. Whatever." With a slight wave, she continued on her way.

Draco mentally slapped himself. Well…so much for trying to distance himself from Hermione…

Later that evening, he arrived back to the common room soon after the feast to find Hermione already there, her nose buried in a book as usual. _She probably couldn't wait for the dance recital_, Draco thought with a smirk.

When Hermione failed to acknowledge his presence, he walked over to where she sat, cleared his throat and held his hand out to her.

"May I cut in?"

Hermione glanced up at him, amused. "I don't think so. My book gets jealous very easily."

"Tell your book that I have no intentions of stealing you away. I just want one dance."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Oh…you were serious about that?"

Draco scoffed. "Of course I was serious, Granger. I do not joke about dancing. Now get up and let's get this over with. You _do_ know how to dance, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" Hermione said, jumping up from the couch. "And I'll bet I know more than you do."

"Oh, you think so, do you?" Draco asked with a bit of challenge in his voice. With a wave of his wand, the table and chairs in the center of the room all moved over to the side, clearing off the floor. Placing a hand gently on her waist, he said, "Okay, then. Show me what you got."

For a split second, Draco could have sworn he saw Hermione blush and falter slightly as he made contact with her, but if she had, she was able to quickly regain her composure.

"Prepare to be amazed," she said, draping her arm casually over his shoulder, while grabbing his other hand with her own.

For a moment, they both stared down at their interlocking fingers. Draco began to feel nervous. Not because he was about to slow dance with Hermione, but because he realized he was touching a mudblood, and he wasn't completely disgusted by it. Quickly pushing that realization out of his head, he said, "I'll lead."

He took a small step forward and Hermione followed his lead by stepping backward. So far so good. They began to move slowly across the common room floor in a waltz. Granger hadn't lied – she actually knew what she was doing. This pleased him to no end - he had been worried that he would have to have to spend countless hours teaching her how to dance. He smiled as he let go of her waist, took a step back and with his left hand, he twirled her.

Hermione giggled as Draco reeled her back in and grabbed her waist again, pulling her close to him. Her giggle subsided as she stared up at him. Their sudden closeness was no doubt unnerving to both of them – especially to Draco who, if he didn't say something real soon, was afraid he might just lean down and kiss her.

"I thought you said you could dance, Granger," he said with a smirk. But there was no malice in his voice. In fact, his voice was a little too soft for his liking.

Hermione gave him a mischievous grin, missed a step, and then came down on his foot with her own – with a little too much force for it to have just been an accident. Draco groaned in pain.

"Oops," she said, feigning innocence. "I guess I lied."

Draco couldn't help but smile. At least the pain of her stepping on his foot managed to distract him from the fact he wanted to kiss her. "Maybe the problem is that we're dancing to complete silence."

"I can fix that," Hermione said. She began to hum softly.

Draco was immediately taken aback by the sound of her voice. He had never heard Granger sing or hum before. But now that he _had_, he never wanted her to stop. "What are you humming?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Hmm?" Hermione stopped humming and glanced up at him. "Oh, it's just a song my mother used to sing to me when I was a little girl. She would sing me to sleep every night, up until I came to Hogwarts." She smiled sadly. "I miss hearing her voice every night here when I go to bed. I'm such a baby. I just love that song so much."

"It's beautiful," Draco mumbled, referring more to the sound of her voice than to the actual song. Actually, he couldn't have cared less what song she was humming. She would have made _anything_ sound beautiful.

Hermione blinked and once again missed a step - then she missed another. She shook her head and gave a bashful smile. "I really am no good at this."

"You're doing fine," Draco assured her. He tightened his grip around her waist.

He took another step forward, but this time, Hermione didn't step back, causing their bodies to close the small gap between them. The sudden contact made Draco's breath catch in his throat. He stared down at Hermione, who was glancing up at him with wide eyes and a look of bewilderment on her face.

"Granger," he murmered. His earlier urge to kiss her had suddenly returned full force, and he realized it was now or never. In the back of his mind, he knew it was a stupid idea, but he was no longer in control of his actions. Unhitching his hand from hers, he instead placed it gently under her chin, lifting her face up slightly. Slowly, he began to lean forward until –

A knock on the door broke them out of their trance. Immediately they jumped away from each other, putting a good couple of feet between them. They stood staring at each other with shocked expressions for a brief moment, until Hermione finally closed her eyes and said, "Harry."

"_What?_" The last name Draco had wanted to hear at that moment was_ Harry Potter_.

"Harry – I told him to stop by tonight and we'd go over our Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment."

"Wonderful," Draco groaned. It was amazing how quickly Potter could ruin the mood. "I guess this means I'm out of here."

"No," Hermione said quickly. "You don't have to leave, we're just going to be studying -"

"Rules are rules, Granger. They are not made to be broken."

"They are if I say you can break them."

"That's sweet, Granger," Draco said, trying not to sound too sarcastic, "but I have a date with Pansy tonight, anyway."

"Oh," Hermione said, sounding a bit crestfallen.

"Yeah. Actually, I think I'm already late for that, so I'd better get going. Pansy gets kind of testy when I'm not on time."

Hermione nodded. "Okay, well, have fun."

"See you later," Draco mumbled. He wasted no time in turning around and leaving.

The portrait hole opened up to reveal Harry standing there with his mussed up hair and his stupid lightning bolt scar, with his schoolbooks in hand. The sight of him made Draco want to strangle him. Or at least slap some sense into him.

"Malfoy," Harry greeted him with a sneer.

"She's all yours, Potter," Draco said through clenched teeth. He pushed past Boy Wonder and kept walking, not looking back. He wasn't heading in any particular direction; he didn't really have a date with Pansy. If Hermione's guest had been anyone else – even Weasley – he might have stuck around. But he just couldn't take being in the same room as those two, watching Hermione ogle Potter with doe eyes.

Draco Malfoy had always hated Harry Potter, but at that moment, he hated him just a little bit more.

* * *

"Potter. Weasley." Draco greeted the two boys with his signature sneer. 

"Malfoy." Harry responded with a sneer of his own.

"What are you two doing here?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "We wanted to stop by for a cup of tea and great conversation. Why do you _think_ we're here? Dumbledore sent us. And don't pretend like you have no idea what I'm talking about. He told me that he informed you that we would be stopping by."

"Yes, he did," Draco said, "but he didn't specify when. And frankly, Potter, right now is not a good time. So if you could come back later -"

"Bollocks," Harry mumbled. He brushed past Draco, with Ron close behind. "Now is a perfect time."

Draco began to panic. He couldn't have Potter and Weasley walking in to find Hermione there – not until he knew exactly what was going on himself. They would freak out and overreact and – who knows what else they would do.

"Potter," Draco said, following the two boys into the common room. "You can't just barge in here. This is _my_ common room -"

"Yeah, well, it was _Hermione's_, too, and she would have let us barge in anytime we liked," Harry said, walking towards Hermione's bedroom.

"Well, Hermione's not here anymore, is she?"

Draco's words stopped Harry in his tracks. Immediately, Draco regretted having said that – he hadn't meant for it to sound so insensitive. But apparently, it did, and it pissed off both Harry and Ron.

"You sonofabitch," Ron mumbled, shaking his head disapprovingly.

Harry, meanwhile, had turned back around to face him. "No," he replied icily. "She isn't. Now if you'll excuse us, we're going to gather up her things."

"No," Draco protested as Harry reached for the handle of the door to Hermione's bedroom. He followed them over to the door and tried to block the entrance. "You can't go in there. You can't -"

Ignoring Draco, Harry reached around him and turned the knob. The door flew open. Draco tried his best to block them, but Harry managed to push him out of the way. He took only one step into the room before he froze.

Hermione, who apparently had been going through the clothes in the closet, spun around when she heard their voices. When she saw Harry and Ron, all of the color drained from her face and she dropped the shirt she had been hanging on to.

But her reaction was nothing compared to those of Harry and Ron, who both looked like they had just seen a ghost. Ron's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Harry, however, just stood there with a shocked expression on his face.

"_Hermione_," he whispered.

"Potter," Draco said cautiously, "this isn't what you think. She's not -"

Harry glared over at him. "What the hell did you do?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

Draco blinked in confusion. "What?"

"I said, _what the hell did you do_?" Harry's voice got louder with every word, until eventually he was shouting. "You brought her _back_? You sick bastard!"

It took a moment for it to sink in, but Draco finally began to realize that Harry was accusing him of bringing Hermione back from the _dead_. It was a preposterous accusation, and he wondered why Harry would even think Draco would _care_ enough to try and resurrect Hermione from the grave. But he figured this was just the shock talking.

"Potter," Draco said slowly. "Just listen to me, okay? I will explain everything -"

"Ron, go get Dumbledore," Harry commanded, keeping his glare on Draco.

Ron did not move, nor did he show any indication that he'd even heard Harry speak to him. He just stood there, staring at the girl who looked just like his dead best friend.

"Ronald!" Harry snapped.

Finally, Ron broke out of his reverie and said, rather numbly, "Yes. Dumbledore. Okay." Slowly, he backed out of the room. Once he was out of the room, however, he broke into a run.

Harry finally removed his gaze from Draco and looked over to Hermione, who had backed herself up against the wall next to the closet and was holding herself tightly. Draco wondered why she suddenly looked so terrified.

"Hermione," Harry sputtered. He took a step closer to her, but she recoiled. He didn't even seem to notice, though. Draco could see tears beginning to form in the boy's eyes as he spoke. "Hermione, you're back. I-I can't believe you're really here. I've missed you _so much_," he sobbed.

Draco had been planning on telling Harry the truth right off – that the girl in front of him was not really his best friend…just a carbon copy of her. But Harry seemed to have forgotten that Draco was even in the room. And it's not as if he would have necessarily believed him, anyway.

But for the first time, Draco felt he could relate to Harry Potter. He could relate to the pain and anguish he saw in the boy's eyes, and he could sense the unadulterated joy he felt to have his best friend back. For some reason, Draco could not bring himself to take that joy away from him – no matter how much he hated him.

Draco would let Harry hold onto that hope for a moment longer. He glanced over at Hermione, who stared back at him with a pleading look that said, _don't leave_. But he was going to leave this one up to her. She would have to be the one to explain everything to Harry. So he returned her look with one that said, _tell him_. It was funny how they were already able to communicate without words.

Quietly, Draco turned around and headed out of the bedroom. Once he was safely in the comfort of his own common room, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Leaning up against the wall, he slowly slid down it until he was sitting on the floor. While the Hermione doppelganger was hopefully clearing everything up in the other room, Draco was going to sit here quietly, waiting for Dumbledore's arrival.

* * *

A/N: Um...so hopefully this didn't totally suck. I had such a hard time writing the first part of this chapter. And the end of it. The middle was pretty easy, though. 

As always, the 6 C's of feedback are welcome: compliments, complaints, constructive criticism, cake, cupcakes and candy. :D


	8. Lucky

**Author's Note:** Argh, 'twas a pain uploading this chapter. Fanfic would not accept my .doc document. I was about to give up on the whole story when I decided to just try copy-and-pasting the story into Notepad and saving as a .txt document, and guess what? I was able to upload! Yay! Okay, so...this chapter is shorter than the rest, because there is no flashback. There will be more flashbacks in the future - I thought maybe I should just use this chapter to explain a couple of things about the new Hermione, and that's all. Thank you to everyone who read my last chapter, and who liked it...even if they weren't so crazy about new!Hermione. ;)

**Disclaimer: **_Harry Potter_ is not mine. It never was, and it never will be.

* * *

"Fascinating." 

The old man caressed his lengthy beard as he stared at the familiar-looking girl sitting in front of him. His eyes twinkled, and a small smile played at his lips. He glanced over first at Draco, then over at Harry and Ron and said matter-of-factly, "This is not Hermione Granger."

Looking confused, Ron said, "Huh? But she _looks_ just like Hermione, sir."

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed she does, Mr. Weasley. What I meant to say is that she is not the Hermione Granger you knew and loved. She has not, as you put it, _been brought back from the dead_."

"I don't get it," Ron said, shaking his head.

"I do," Harry said softly. Everyone's eyes turned to him. "She's -"

"From a different world," Dumbledore finished for him. "Remarkable. Truly remarkable."

Draco glanced curiously at the old man. Once again, he had managed to figure everything out. Hermione was giving the man a similar look.

"I've known witches and wizards who have traveled to other dimensions, but I've never met one so young," Dumbledore continued. "How did you do it, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked uncomfortable as everyone in the room turned their attention to her. "A-a spell. It was a spell."

"Hmm," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "And what, exactly, brings you to _our_ world?"

"I…" Hermione's voice trailed off. She seemed unsure of what to say, or how to say it. "Well, I didn't know I would end up here. The spell – it wasn't exact. I mean, I wasn't able to pinpoint exactly where I would end up traveling to. For all I knew, I could have ended up on a deserted world, or a world run by giants. I really had no way of knowing."

Dumbledore shook his head. "What reason would a young woman have to take such a risk?"

Hermione lowered her head. "I…I was marked for death."

Draco's eyes widened a bit. She hadn't told him that. Why hadn't she told him that when he had asked her why she left her own world?

"I've been running from Death Eaters for months now. They seem determined to kill me. _So_ determined, in fact, that I had to leave my world, or let them get me. Call me crazy, but I chose the first option. Even if I had landed in a horrible world, it wouldn't be as bad as what the Death Eaters had planned for me."

Ron, whose mouth had been agape so far during the entire conversation, said, "Why do they want to kill you?"

Hermione snorted. "Because I'm close friends with Harry Potter."

Draco's breath caught in his throat. He glanced over at Harry, whose face now donned a pained expression.

The room fell silent for a moment, as if everyone was slowly registering the girl's story. Finally, Hermione spoke up again.

"They – the Death Eaters – targeted me because I'm close with Harry. They figured that I would be the perfect way for them to get to him. They figured if they killed me, it would ruin him. They figured he would become weak, making him easier to manipulate, I suppose."

"How do you know they are after you?" Harry asked. "I didn't know that Death Eaters normally gave their victims a warning before attacking them."

Hermione stared down at the floor, then slowly lifted her hand to the neckline of her shirt and pulled down on it a bit, revealing a nasty scar located a couple of inches below her collarbone – close to where her heart was. Draco quickly looked away. This girl may not have been the same Hermione he had known, but she looked just like her, and seeing that scar brought back way too many bad memories.

"I guess you could say _that_ was my warning," she said quietly, releasing her shirt and smoothing it back out. "That's my souvenir from the first time they tried to kill me."

"How did you get away from them?" Ron whispered. Clearly, this was affecting him just as much as it was Draco.

Hermione glanced up. "Professor Dumbledore saved me." She looked over to the old man and smiled as a tear trailed down the side of her face. "He happened to stumble upon us as the Death Eaters were attacking me, and he saved my life. After that, he gave me some protective charms to ward off any future attacks, but…but they found ways around the protective spells, and they kept trying to hurt me. They even came after my parents. Can you believe that? They went to a _muggle_ neighborhood to _kill _my parents."

"And…_did_ they?" Ron asked tentatively. He seemed to be the only one out of all of them who was able to speak at all.

"Luckily, no," Hermione replied. "But they burned their house – _my_ house – down. Fortunately, my parents were not home at the time, but we lost everything. It was after that that I began to realize that it was no longer about Harry Potter. These Death Eaters, they couldn't accept the fact that I had been saved from them, and they were determined to finish what they had started. They no longer wanted me dead because of Harry – they just wanted me dead." She paused for a moment and said, "So that's why I came here. That's why I left my world. They would have kept coming after me…after my friends and family. I had to leave."

Draco watched as tears fell from Hermione's eyes and he fought the sudden urge to hold her – tell her everything was going to be all right. She looked heartbroken and scared, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to help her.

"That is unfortunate," Dumbledore said. "Well, rest assured that for the time being, you will be safe here. Is there anyway your spell can be tracked?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, sir. I took extra precautions. There is no way anyone could track me to this world. Unfortunately, though…I have no way of finding my way back home. That was the only way I could assure I'd be safe wherever I ended up."

Dumbledore nodded. "I suspected as much." Slowly, he stood up from the chair. "I think it best that you remain within these living quarters for the remainder of the weekend. It would be better that nobody, save everyone in this room, finds out about this for the time being. Of course, I will be notifying the staff as well. On Monday, I will address the students during the breakfast feast." He stopped and turned to look at Draco, Harry and Ron. "I suspect you all can keep a secret?"

The three boys nodded.

"Very well, then. Miss Granger, welcome to our world."

"Thank you, sir," she said politely.

The old man gave her a pleasant smile, then proceeded to give one to the three boys as well. "See you all on Monday." And with that, he left.

Another awkward silence filled the room at once. It looked as though Ron had finally run out of things to say, and it appeared as though Harry wanted to say so many things but couldn't choose which one to go with. So finally, he went with, "I-I have to go."

Ron blinked. "What? Harry, but – Hermione is -"

"Ron, you can stay if you'd like, but I just…I can't be here right now."

"How about you_ both_ leave?" Draco said, trying to sound as rude as possible. "I'm sure Granger here would like some time alone to rest. She's had quite an exciting day. So if you'd both be so kind as to let yourselves out, I would appreciate it."

Ron glared at him, but Harry just stared at the floor.

"Fine," Ron said. "We'll be back later, you can count on that." He turned to Hermione and stuck out his hand. "Hermione, it was a pleasure to…_meet_ you?"

Hermione smiled slightly and shook his hand. "Likewise."

Ron placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "C'mon, Harry."

Harry nodded and glanced up at Hermione one more time before following Ron out of the common room.

After they were gone, Hermione gave what Draco thought sounded a lot like a sigh of relief. "I think Harry hates me," she said, looking somewhat amused.

"Hates you?" Draco said. "Nah, I don't think he hates you. I'd say he's a little weirded out by you. But that is certainly understandable."

Hermione's eyes flickered over to Draco. "Are _you_ weirded out by me?"

"Honestly?" Draco said. "Yes, I am."

"Oh," Hermione said, lowering her eyes.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "Does it bother you that Potter has reacted this way?"

Hermione shrugged. "Should it?"

"Well, I don't know. I guess it all depends on how close you were to him in _your_ world." Draco paused and narrowed his eyes. "Oh, please don't tell me you two were…_close_." He said the last word suggestively.

For a brief moment Hermione stared blankly at him, but then quickly burst out laughing. "Me? And Harry Potter? Close like _that_? Oh, no, no, no. Heaven's, no. Why? Were they…_close_ here?"

The question hit a nerve, but Draco was able to hide it. "No, they were just friends. But…I don't know. I think Granger had a slight _thing_ for Potter." _Ha_, he thought to himself, _that's an understatement_.

"Ahh, well not in my world. Harry and I were strictly _just friends_ – nothing more, nothing less."

"Well then – you've found at least _one_ thing that's different from your world."

Hermione smiled. "I guess I have."

Draco cleared his throat. "Well," he said, getting up from his chair. "You really should get some rest. Feel free to sleep on the couch."

Hermione frowned slightly. "The couch? I was thinking maybe I could sleep in _Hermione's_ room."

He'd been hoping she wouldn't suggest that. The truth was, he couldn't stand the thought of anyone sleeping in that room. Hermione's bedroom had remained pretty much untouched since the day she died - except for the few times _he_ had gone in there - and he wanted it to stay that way. However, Dumbledore would be appointing a new Head Girl pretty soon anyway, and that girl would be moving in with all of her belongings, and the last bit of Hermione's memory would be shipped away to her parents forever. Since it was impossible for Hermione's room to stay untouched forever, he figured who better to stay in that room than Hermione's parallel universe twin?

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled. "Make yourself at home."

Hermione yawned. "Thank you so much for this. I mean, thank you for not being so _weirded out_ by me that you banished me from the building or something." She paused and then said, "You know, for the first time in a long time, I feel _safe_."

"Good," Draco said. "I'm glad. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll be heading out for a while, let you get some rest. You think you'll be okay here by yourself?"

Hermione nodded. "Sure."

"Okay, then," Draco said, avoiding her gaze. Suddenly, he felt what Harry must have been feeling a few minutes ago. The emotions of seeing Hermione alive and well – even though it wasn't really her – were just too overwhelming. He needed some time to process everything. He needed time to clear his head.

"I'll be back later," he mumbled as he headed for the portrait hole.

"Wait, Malfoy?" she called after him. "Before you go, I was just curious…how did I…I mean, how did _she _die?"

The question stopped him in his tracks. He stood there for a moment, his back toward her, and closed his eyes. He knew she'd be asking that question sooner or later, but he had hoped she would ask _later_, and the she would ask someone else. He preferred not to think about how she died, and he tried very hard everyday to push it out of his mind whenever it managed to find its way in.

After a long pause, he said softly, "She was killed." He turned around to face her. "By a Death Eater. Because she was close with Harry Potter."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly. "Oh," she said quietly.

"Yeah, so…I suspect that's why Dumbledore was quick to say you could stay here for now. Obviously, your story has hit close to home for everyone. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if Dumbledore views this as some sort of a second chance for him. Like…I don't know. He was unable to save Hermione. So now he can at least try and save _you_."

Hermione gave a weak smile. "Lucky me."

"Yeah," Draco muttered. "Lucky you."

He couldn't help but feel like this was just a bit unfair. This girl would have people protecting her here. Hell – she'd even had them protecting her in her old world. Where was _their_ Hermione's protection when she'd needed it? Why hadn't _their_ Hermione's life been saved? Suddenly, he found himself glaring at the girl in front of him.

"Do not leave these living quarters," he snapped. "Do not answer the door under any circumstances, do you understand?"

Hermione nodded. She either had not picked up on the anger in his voice, or she had chosen to ignore it. "Where are you going?"

"I told you. I just…I need to get out for a while. I won't be gone too long."

"Okay," she said quietly. "I'll see you later then, I guess?"

Draco did not acknowledge her before leaving. He just grabbed his jacket and his green-and-silver-striped scarf and rushed out of the portrait hole as quickly as possible. The second he set foot out into the hallway, he let out a sob - but only one. That was all he would allow himself. Quickly, he regained his composure and put on his signature expression of arrogance and indifference. He ignored the knight in the portrait that guarded his common room, who asked if he was all right, and continued down the hallway.

Seeing this girl who looked like Hermione was too much for him to handle right now. It brought back too many memories, and it stirred up too many conflicting emotions inside of him. He would deal with the whole situation later. But for right now, all he wanted was to forget it all.

* * *

A/N: Meh. Like I said, short chapter. No flashback, but hey - I _did_ answer the question as to how Hermione died, at least. Of course, more will be addressed later in a flashback. Gosh, this story is getting harder and harder for me to write...  



	9. Dear Diary

**Author's Note: **Well, this is probably my quickest update yet. Like I said last time, I'm trying extra hard to upload the next couple of chapters before Christmase because, well, the next few flashbacks are Christmas-themed. However, the only way I think I will achieve this goal is if I give up everything else in my life for the next week and a half and devote all of my time to writing. Well, we'll see if I can do that. :D Hugs to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and all the ones before it. You guys are the wind beneath my wings. P

**Disclaimer:** People often ask me, "Are you the author of those _Harry Potter_ books?" Actually, I'm totally kidding. They don't.

* * *

**_December 19th –Before the Yule Ball_**

"An hour and a half to go until the Yule Ball, and you're writing in your beloved journal." Draco smirked as he dropped his wand down onto the nearest table and threw his robes over the arm of the chair. He plopped down onto the couch and put his feet up on the table in front of him. "And you're not even ready yet."

Hermione sighed in annoyance, but kept on writing.

"What are you writing about _tonight_?" Draco wondered. "_Dear Diary, tonight I am going to the Yule Ball with the unfortunate soul Neville Longbottom. Woe is I. At least I get to have one dance with the incredibly handsome Draco Malfoy, though – that more than makes up for it. He is so charming and popular. I must be the luckiest girl in the world._"

Hermione smirked and closed up the journal. She tapped her wand on the top of the book, most likely to lock it. She had a pretty decent anti-read spell on it, for anyone who dared try and open it. "You know, Malfoy, I often lie awake at night wondering how it is you manage to fit shirts over that gigantic head of yours."

Draco grinned and raised an eyebrow at her. "Why, Granger, I had no idea you go to sleep every night thinking of _me_. I'm flattered. Truly."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I only have myself to blame," she muttered. "I walked right into that one."

"You certainly did."

"But seriously, though, have you ever thought of maybe trying to love yourself just a _little_ bit less?"

"I try all the time, Granger, but it's so hard. There is just so much about me to love."

Hermione snorted.

"So why _are_ you writing in your journal, instead of getting ready for the Ball?" Draco asked.

"Not _every_ girl takes four hours to get ready, Malfoy," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Besides, it's not like I have to do too much. Throw my dress robes on, brush my hair. I don't have to get _too_ gussied up. It's not like I'm going to be spending all evening there."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You're not staying for the whole Ball? But you've got a date."

Hermione shrugged. "Neville's okay with it. I told him I'd dance with him a couple of times, then I'd be leaving. He said that was fine."

"That's just silly, Granger. Why not stay until the end? This is the last Yule Ball you will ever get to attend as a student here."

"Maybe I'm just not in the mood to spend all evening watching happy couples parading their love for each other all over the dance floor," Hermione said quietly.

Draco groaned. "Oh hell, Granger," he said, with a little more irritation than he had meant, "enough with all of this moping over Potter bollocks. When are you just going to get _over_ it?"

Hermione frowned. "Who said anything about _Harry_?" she mumbled.

Draco searched her face, trying to figure out what she meant by that. He was about to ask her when a knock interrupted him.

"Oh for crying out loud," he grumbled. He got up and walked over to the portrait hole and pushed the door open. On the other side stood three giggling girls: Ginny Weasley, Lavender Brown, and Luna Lovegood. Well, actually, only Ginny and Lavender were giggling; Luna was staring off into space with a smile on her face.

The giggling stopped the minute the girls saw Draco. "Oh. Malfoy," Ginny said, not bothering to try and hide the distaste in her voice. "Is Hermione here?"

"Where _else_ would she be?" Draco muttered. He stepped aside, allowing the girls to enter. "Granger," he called into the common room. "You've got three very annoying guests here to see you."

Ginny and Lavender glared at him. Luna just continued to smile.

Hermione stood up when her friends entered the room. "Hey, what are you guys doing here?"

Lavender began giggling again. "We are here to help you get ready for the Ball."

"But I don't need any help," Hermione said, glancing wearily down at the various items both Ginny and Lavender held in their hands.

"Oh, nonsense," Ginny said, grabbing Hermione's arm. "This is your last Ball at Hogwarts, and we are going to make sure you look beautiful for it."

"But -" Hermione protested.

"Shush!" Ginny said, placing a hand over Hermione's mouth. "When we get through with you, nobody at the Ball will even recognize you!"

Hermione glanced wide-eyed over at Draco as Ginny and Lavender pulled her into her bedroom. The poor girl looked frightened. With friends like those two girls, Draco could not blame her. He smirked as the girls slammed the bedroom door shut behind them.

Draco glanced over at Luna, who had taken it upon herself to sit down. "This is quite a lovely common room," she said politely. "Lots of…space."

_Kind of like the inside of your head_, Draco wanted to say. But he resisted the urge and instead said, "Yeah."

"They really want Hermione to look beautiful for the Ball," Luna continued, not even looking at Draco as she spoke. In fact, the way she spoke almost sounded as though she were talking to no one in particular - rather just voicing her thoughts out loud, whether anyone was around to hear them or not.

"Why do they want that so badly?" Draco asked against his better judgment. "Looney" Lovegood was not the easiest person to carry on a conversation with, due to the fact she was _weird_.

Luna shrugged. "They don't tell me these things."

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened and Lavender popped her head out. "Luna, get your arse in here."

Luna sighed. "I'll be right there." She glanced over at Draco and smiled before getting up and leaving the room. Once again, the bedroom door slammed shut behind her.

Draco had to admit he was curious as hell as to what was going on behind that closed door. Whatever was happening, he knew Granger probably wasn't liking it. Hermione was never one to go through too much trouble to make herself beautiful. In fact, the one and only time at Hogwarts that she did was for the Yule Ball their fourth year. Otherwise, she had only two looks: her school uniform look, and her casual look – the latter usually consisting of sweaters and jeans, pure muggle clothes. Draco grinned at the thought of her being tortured in that room with makeup and hairbrushes and all sorts of beautifying spells.

He chuckled as he went to his own bedroom to get ready. He had told Pansy he'd swing by the Slytherin Tower an hour early.

About a half an hour later, Draco was all showered and dressed for the Ball. The girls, however, were still in the bedroom – he could hear their excited, muffled voices. He rolled his eyes. He was hoping Pansy wouldn't be going through something similar when he arrived to the Slytherin common room in a few minutes. Girls could be so annoying sometimes.

Quietly, he walked over to the bedroom door and strained to make sense out of what they were saying, but it was useless. So instead of eavesdropping, he instead knocked on the door and said, "Hey, Granger."

At the sound of his voice, the girls all fell silent. "Granger, I'm leaving now. And I just want to inform you girls that you'd better get her to the Ball on time. We have to share the first dance."

"Okay, Malfoy," Ginny and Lavender simultaneously said in singsong voices. More giggling immediately ensued.

Draco rolled his eyes. He couldn't help but feel _really_ sorry for Hermione at that moment.

* * *

Draco returned to the common room hoping to see he was the only one there. No such luck, however – the Hermione look-alike sat curled up in the armchair, reading a book. 

"What are you reading?" he asked her.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, but smiled when she glanced up at him. "Oh, hello. I didn't hear you come in."

Draco stared down at the book she held open in her hands. He recognized it. Why did he recognize it? As he moved closer to her, he got a clearer view of it – it was Hermione's journal.

"What are you doing with that?" he demanded.

"I'm reading it," Hermione replied simply.

"That's Hermione's _journal_ – it's not meant for just anyone to read."

Hermione shrugged. "I would say _I'm_ entitled to read it, don't you think? I mean, she and I are practically the same person."

Draco took a slow, deep breath, hoping it would calm the sudden anger he felt towards the girl. "I don't think it works that way, Granger. Besides, how did you even break into it? She had a pretty tight locking spell on it."

"I know. I use the same spell for _my_ diary back home."

"And the password? How did you know what to use to open it?"

"That was easy," she said. "It turns out she and I have a lot of things in common, starting with choice of passwords. I just asked myself what word _I_ would use and then I tried it. Lo and behold, it worked like a charm."

"Yeah, well, I don't care _how_ much you have in common with her. That does not give you the right to read her private thoughts."

"Would _you_ like to read it?" she asked him, holding the journal out to him.

"_No_," Draco said, snatching the book out of her hands. "And I don't want _you_ to read it either. Have you no respect for the privacy of others?"

"Of course I have respect. I was just curious, is all. I land in a world so similar to mine and find out that there was another _version_ of me, only I don't get to meet her because she's…" Hermione's voice trailed off. "Well, you know. And I was just curious to see how similar we were. Don't worry, I didn't read too much. I didn't even get past the September entries." She paused for a moment, and then said, "I see what you mean about her being in love with Harry, though."

"I don't want to hear about it," Draco snapped. Quickly regaining his composure, he sighed and dropped the journal onto her lap. "Whatever. I don't care. Read it if you want to. It's not mine; I can't decide whether or not you may read it. Just…don't talk about it with me, alright?"

"Fine," Hermione mumbled. "I'm just surprised you don't want to read it. She wrote in one of her first entries that she was placing the heavy spell on it to keep _you_ from breaking into it. She suspected that perhaps you had an _interest_ in reading it."

Draco snorted. "Yeah, well, maybe at one point I _was_ interested. But I'm not anymore."

"Why not?"

"I'm just _not_. Will you please let it go?"

Hermione shrugged. "Yeah, okay. You don't have to raise your voice. You know, I'm starting to see why she didn't like you."

Her comment hit a nerve. So Hermione wrote in her journal about how she didn't like him? He tried not to let that knowledge bother him, but it did anyway. So while she was writing about how wonderful Harry was, she was writing about what a horrible prat _Draco_ was. It shouldn't have surprised him. The girl in front of him had said she had only read the September entries, so of _course_ Hermione had been writing about how much she hated him at the time. He was still being a jackass to her back then. Still, it hurt nonetheless, and suddenly Draco had an urge to grab that journal from the girl and read every word Hermione had written down.

Instead, he took a seat on the couch and said, "Oh really? And why is that?"

"Well, you're kind of rude."

"Thanks. Are you saying I'm _not_ rude in _your_ world? Or am I not even _in_ your world?"

Hermione snorted. "Oh, you're in my world, all right. And you're pretty much the same there as you are here. Well, except for the fact that you're a _mudblood_ in my world."

Draco's jaw immediately dropped as he gave Hermione a horrified expression.

She burst out laughing. "I'm joking. Wow, you looked mortified there for a second. Let me guess – being Pureblood means as much to you here as it means to the Malfoy in _my_ world?"

Draco smirked. "Let me guess – I've been a complete arse to you in your world, because I'm a Pureblood and you're a mudblood?"

"Something like that," Hermione said with a shrug. "You know, I'm not really surprised that you're the same _here_. I honestly cannot imagine a world where Draco Malfoy is anything other than a pompous git."

"Maybe you should let your imagination run wild sometime," Draco said. "You'd be surprised at the things you could come up with."

Hermione gave him a skeptical look. "What kind of relationship did you have with Hermione _here_?"

Draco's eyes darkened a bit at her sudden change in topic and he said in an almost _defensive_ tone, "We didn't have _any_ kind of relationship."

"I don't believe that," Hermione said, shaking her head slightly. "I mean, you're Head Boy…she was Head Girl. You two shared a common room together. You did nightly patrols together. Surely you must have had _some_ sort of relationship with her, whether good or bad."

"We were _forced _to live together," Draco said, "and most of the time, we did what we could to avoid each other. We hardly had anything close to what you would call a _relationship_. We barely ever spoke to each other." Draco avoided the girl's gaze. He had a feeling that if he were to look her in the eye, she'd be able to tell he was lying.

"Okay," she said. "If you say so." She smiled and paused for a moment before saying, "So did you have a nice time clearing your head?"

Draco stared at her blankly, wondering what she meant. And then he remembered that he had left her earlier to do just that – _clear his head_. What he had actually done was gone in search of Pansy, hoping maybe she could help him get his mind off of things. However, he never did manage to find her, or _any_ of his friends for that matter, so he instead ventured down to The Three Broomsticks for a few lonely drinks. "Yeah," he replied flatly. "I had a really nice time."

"What did you do?"

Draco opened his mouth to tell her that it was none of her business, but a knock on the door prevented him from saying it. He groaned. "Don't tell me Potter and Weasel are back _already_."

"I hope not," Hermione said with a frown.

Draco couldn't help but to be amused at her attitude so far towards Harry and Ron. He wished _Hermione_ had had that attitude towards them when she was alive. It would have saved him a lot of exasperation.

"Well if it's them," Draco said, heading over to the portrait hole, "I'll just tell them to go away in a very non-polite way."

He smirked and opened up the portrait hole door. To his surprise, it was not Harry and Ron who stood on the other side of the door – it was Ginny Weasley. He didn't even have to notice her sullen expression to know why she was there – she certainly hadn't come to see _him_.

"Well, so much for keeping secrets," Draco mumbled. "I'll bet it took Potter and Weasel, what, twenty seconds to tell you what Dumbledore _specifically_ told us not to tell _anyone_?"

Glowering at Draco, Ginny pushed past him. "Where is she?" she demanded.

"I don't recall inviting you in, Weaslette," Draco snapped.

"Hermione?" she called out as she made her way into the common room. She stopped short when she caught site of the girl sitting in the armchair across the room.

Hermione immediately stood up; the journal that had been on her lap fell to the floor with a soft _thud_, but she ignored it. "_Ginny_?"

The petite redhead widened her eyes as she stared in astonishment at the girl. "Wow," she breathed. "You look just like her."

Draco raised an eyebrow at that. While this girl's features _did_ mirror Hermione's, there were still quite a few differences in appearance – although through Ginny's shock, Draco figured she probably hadn't even noticed yet.

The two girls stood still, staring at each other for only a few brief seconds until suddenly, Ginny lunged toward Hermione and threw her arms around her, hugging her tightly.

Though Hermione was stunned by this sudden action, she quickly responded by returning the embrace.

"You hug like her, too," Ginny said softly. As quickly as she had embraced her, she let go of her and held the girl out at arm's length. "Harry and Ronald were right – this is really weird, but…it's just so nice to see your face. You look so much like her."

"So I've been told," Hermione said, smiling. Her eyes flickered over to Draco.

"You want her to leave?" he asked her, motioning his head toward Ginny.

"Not at all," Hermione replied. "This girl was a good friend of mine back in my world. It's nice to see your face too, Ginny."

Ginny grinned. "We have so much to talk about. I want to know _everything_ about you – everything about your _world_. Everything about _me_ in your world."

Hermione giggled. "Um, okay…" Once again, she looked over to Draco. "I guess we can go in the bedroom and talk. Is it alright with you if she stays, Malfoy?"

No, it wasn't really okay with him, but Draco told her it was anyway. He had a feeling that even if he tried to kick Ginny out, she wouldn't leave - and honestly, he felt too emotionally drained to even argue with her at the moment.

Ginny squealed with delight. She grabbed Hermione's hand and led her toward the bedroom, talking excitedly – something about how she bet Hogwarts boys were cuter in other dimensions than they were in this one. Draco rolled his eyes.

As he watched them go into the bedroom and shut the door, Draco started to get a bad feeling about this whole Hermione doppelganger thing. Ginny's reaction to her was the complete opposite of what he had expected – and the complete opposite of _Harry's_ reaction. Instead of being shocked, saddened, or _weirded out_ by her, Ginny was happy and excited – as if she had just gone into that bedroom with the _real_ Hermione to discuss girl stuff. That disturbed him. With this girl looking and sounding so much like the real Hermione, it would be easy for people to forget who she really was – or rather, who she really _wasn't_. There was no doubt in his mind that Ginny Weasley was going to be one of those people.

However, he couldn't be bothered by that. It wasn't his problem. If the Weaslette wanted to pretend this girl was really her best friend, good for her. If Scarhead wanted to avoid her, even better. Draco honestly didn't care how anyone else was going to deal with the _new Hermione_ situation. It would be more important for him to concentrate on how _he_ was going to deal with it.

But the _most_ important thing, Draco realized as his gaze fell upon the journal that Hermione had left lying on the floor, was going to be concentrating on finding a place to put that diary where he wouldn't be tempted to read it.

* * *

Up Next: Flashback to the Yule Ball. :D  



	10. Never Again

**Author's Note: **So, just a warning: this is a really long chapter. In fact, it's the longest I've ever written. According to my MS Word, the word count on this chapter is 7,191 words, excluding author's notes. That's almost like 3 whole chapters of my last story, all put into one. :D Anyway...so yeah, it's long - yet surprisingly, some parts of it may seemed rushed to you. I just wanted the Yule Ball to be all one chapter, intead of breaking it up into 2 chapters (hence the fact there is no present-day scene). But this whole scene, which I _thought_ was going to be easy to write, was actually very tiring and it took me longer than expected. I guess I will not have a chance to write and upload the next two or so chapters before Christmas. Oh well - I tried, honestly! Okay, I'll shut up now.

...right after I thank all of you wonderful people for the reviews, of course. So...thank you!

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the Harry Potter series, I so totally would not be wasting my time writing fan fic. You know?

* * *

**_December 19th – the Yule Ball_**

"Wow, this place looks so beautiful!" Pansy gasped as they entered the Great Hall.

Draco rolled his eyes at Blaise and said, "Girls are so easy to please. Just add decorations, and it's the best thing they've ever seen."

Blaise snorted; Pansy playfully hit him on the arm. "I'm not that easy, Draco."

"That's not what he told _me_," Blaise muttered under his breath. He smirked over at Pansy. She proceeded to hit _him_ on the arm too, but a little harder than she'd hit Draco.

"Jerk," she mumbled, but a smile remained plastered to her face.

"Be nice to Pansy, Zabini," Draco mumbled.

"Yeah, _Zabini_, be nice to me." Pansy giggled. "Oh, look! There's Millicent!" She pointed over to where Millicent Bulstrode stood with Goyle, over by the refreshment table. She grabbed Blaise's date, a sixth-year Slytherin, by the arm and hauled her off. "We'll be over there," Pansy informed Draco as she and the other girl scampered off.

"Mmhmm," Draco responded absent-mindedly. He glanced around the ballroom, looking for Hermione. However, there were too many students there already, and it was hard to pinpoint anyone in particular. He was starting to get nervous that she wouldn't show.

"Looking for someone?" Blaise asked, glancing over at Draco.

"Yeah, I'm looking for Granger."

"_Granger_?" Blaise said, unable to hide the disgust in his voice. "What possible reason could you have for looking for _her_?"

Draco sighed. "We've been over this, Zabini. Granger and I have to share the first dance. It's a tradition for the Head Boy and Girl."

"Fuck tradition," Blaise said. "I wouldn't dance with Granger if she were the last female on earth, and my life depended on whether or not I danced with her."

"Well then it's a good thing _you're_ not Head Boy, jackass," Draco snapped.

Blaise looked taken-aback. He narrowed his eyes and said, "What has gotten into you, man?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes you do, Draco. Crabbe and Goyle have told me -"

"Why are you listening to what Crabbe and Goyle tell you? They are _dolts_, Zabini. You know that."

"Sure, they're idiots," Blaise agreed, "but you've practically been confirming everything they've been saying about you."

"Oh yeah?" Draco said, finally turning his full attention to Blaise. "And what exactly have they been saying?"

Blaise opened his mouth to answer, but froze when he caught sight of something beyond Draco's shoulder. "What the _hell_?"

Draco stared blankly at Blaise for a few seconds before realizing that the entire ballroom had fallen silent. "What's going on?"

Blaise's gaze flickered back to Draco and he said in a low voice, "Well, I guess you've just found what you were looking for." He pointed over in the direction of the Great Hall's entrance.

Draco turned around and faced the direction in which Blaise was pointing, and in which everyone was staring. At first, he wondered what the big deal was– it was just a girl walking into the Great Hall. But then it slowly began to register that the girl was not just _any_ girl – it was Hermione Granger.

He had to blink a few times, to make sure it really was her he was staring at. But there was no doubt about it – Ginny, Lavender and Luna had done what they had told Hermione they would do: they made her look absolutely beautiful.

"Hey, you dropped your jaw on the floor," Blaise joked, but Draco barely heard him.

He watched as Hermione entered the Great Hall with Neville, who looked absolutely ecstatic to have her on his arm. When she noticed that everyone's eyes were on her, she smiled slightly, blushed, and then lowered her head.

She was dressed in a white satin gown that clung nicely to her curves, without being too tight or showy. The fabric flowed smoothly all the way to the floor, trailing slightly in the back. Wrapped lightly around her shoulders was a sheer shawl that sparkled every time she moved and the light hit it just right. Her hair had been tied loosely into a bun at the back of her head, with a few wavy tendrils poking out here and there, framing her face – which appeared to be just a little more colorful than usual. Apparently, Hermione's friends knew a few things about the art of makeup – at least enough to know that a little goes a long way. While Pansy and her friends had gone out of their way to pile the makeup on, Hermione's little helpers opted instead to go lightly on the blush and eye shadow and lipstick, putting on just enough to show that it was there, and that was all. However, the girls did appear to have paid special attention to Hermione's eyes, darkening them with eyeliner and mascara just enough to make them appear big and bright. Even from far away, Draco felt he could have gotten lost in those eyes.

She looked like a goddess. Or perhaps an angel. Or maybe even a bit of both. No matter what, she looked positively radiant, and Draco – along with every other male in the room – was having a hard time taking his eyes off her.

"Don't forget to breathe," Blaise muttered in Draco's ear.

His friend's voice broke him out of his trance as he realized that he had been holding his breath since the very moment she had entered the room.

Blaise smirked. "And you say nothing's gotten into you." He glanced over at Hermione. "Don't let her appearance fool you, Draco. Underneath all of _that _is still a filthy mudblood. It's important that you remember that."

Draco had to bite his tongue before saying something he would regret. But it didn't matter anyway, because Blaise was already sauntering off to join his date and Pansy on the other side of the room. He frowned as he watched him go; as he realized that Blaise was a spitting image of what _he _used to be – arrogant and prejudiced. He never knew until that very moment how unpleasant people like that were.

"Hey," a feminine voice said as someone tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

Draco spun around to find himself face-to-face with Hermione. Up close, she was even more beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that he had to avert his eyes away from her immediately. "Granger." He mumbled the greeting, trying to sound as disinterested as possible.

"I hope I'm not too late," she said, not even noticing his indifference toward her. She smiled. "Well, it's not as if the Ball could start without me anyway, right? What's the traditional Head Boy and Girl dance, without the Head Girl?"

"It sounds like a dance I would like to try," he replied with a smirk.

She glared at him. "Charming, Malfoy." She sighed and rolled her eyes.

He grinned just as Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the Great Hall.

"Young ladies and young gentlemen," she said, "I would like to welcome you to the Yule Ball. Before we begin, I would just like to remind you all that there will be absolutely _no_ tomfoolery of any kind. Whoever breaks this rule will be asked to the leave the Ball for the remainder of the evening. Now, when I say _no tomfoolery_, I mean no fighting, no pranks of any kind, and absolutely nothing more than dancing and handholding with your dates. Am I understood?"

All of the students in the room groaned and mumbled "yeah" in unison.

"Very well, then. Let the Ball begin. Now, where are Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger?" McGonagall scanned the crowd looking for them.

Hermione raised her hand.

"Ah yes, there they are. Will the Head Boy and Head Girl please proceed to the center of the room for the first dance?"

Draco nodded and took a step forward. Realizing that Hermione was not following, he turned around and said, "Come on, Granger." He held out his hand to her.

She glanced around the room at all of the students, her eyes wide with trepidation. Obviously, she did not like the idea of dancing in front of a large group of people, and Draco couldn't really blame her. He wasn't exactly looking forward to it either, but it was tradition. They had to do it.

"I don't bite, Granger," he said, with a bit of urgency in his voice. "Unless you'd like me to."

Hermione smiled slightly as she reached out and took his hand, letting him lead her to the center of the floor. Before she had a chance to react, he quickly pulled her in close to him, so that their bodies were touching. He grasped her hand with one of his hands while his other arm snaked around her waist. "Relax," he murmured into her ear. "Just pretend we're practicing alone in the common room. No one else is here."

He could feel her shaking slightly as she nodded. He took a deep breath, breathing in the light scent of her perfume, before pulling away slightly and looking at her. He gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll lead," he said.

They began to move the second the music began. It was just like their dance practice in the common room, only this time with real music, which made it easier to stay in step. And although Hermione faltered a few times in the beginning, she quickly got the hang of it and became more confident. About halfway through the song, when all of the other students began to pile onto the dance floor, Draco said, "See? This isn't so bad."

"I guess," she said with a slight shrug.

They glanced at each other uncomfortably as they continued to move across the floor. Draco cleared his throat and said, "So your friends…they did a decent job on you. You look like a girl."

"As opposed to before," Hermione said, "when I looked like a house elf."

"Exactly," Draco said, grinning. "I guess miracles _can_ happen."

"Would you like me to step on your foot _by accident_ again?"

"Why would you want to do _that_, Granger? I was giving you a compliment."

"Oh right - another _backhanded_ compliment. I keep forgetting you consider those to be _actual_ compliments, that deserve a 'thank you'."

"Well, a simple 'thank you' _would_ be nice."

"Why are you such a git?"

"Because me being a git right now is helping to take your mind off the fact you're dancing with me in front of half of the school."

"Thanks for reminding me," Hermione mumbled, glancing around at all of the other students. "Even though everyone else is busy dancing, I keep getting the impression that everyone is _staring_ at me. I had that same feeling the second I walked into the room. Probably because when I did, everyone stopped what they were doing and _stared_ at me." She sighed. "I'm being paranoid, aren't I?"

Draco gave her an incredulous look. Judging from the confusion in her voice, she honestly had no idea _why_ everyone was staring at her. He could help but chuckle. "Oh Granger, you are so stupid."

"_Excuse _me?"

"I didn't mean to say you are stupid," Draco said quickly. "I just cannot believe you can't figure out why people are staring at you."

"It's my hair, isn't it? It looks weird. I _told_ Ginny it looked terrible -"

"Granger, your hair is fine," he assured her. "In fact…it looks nice. _That's_ why everyone is looking at you, Hermione – because you look positively gorgeous."

Hermione blinked and missed a step. So did Draco, when he realized that not only had he just called Hermione by her first name, but because he called her _gorgeous_ in the same breath. Apparently, it had shocked _her_, too.

She began to giggle only a few moments later, though, and said, "Good one, Malfoy. You almost had me there."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "You think I'm joking, Granger? Did you even bother to take a look at yourself in the mirror before you came here?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," she replied, "and I thought I looked weird."

"Yeah, well, you're the best looking _weird_ I've seen in a long time," he muttered, avoiding her gaze. "I can't believe I have to spell it out for you, Granger, but all of the guys in here are staring at you because they think you're _hot_, and the girls are staring at you because they are secretly hating you for making their dates think you're hot, while at the same time they are wishing they looked like you."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "How do you know all of this?"

"Because in case you haven't noticed, Granger, _I_ am a guy. And because of that, I know what guys are thinking right now when they look at you."

"Oh yeah?" she said. "So what are they thinking, then?"

Draco fell silent. There was no way he could tell her what they were probably thinking – it would make her blush. And there certainly was no way he could tell her what _he_ was thinking at that very moment…

A tap on his shoulder saved him from having to quickly think of something else to say. Draco turned his head to the right to see Neville standing there.

"The first dance is over," he informed them, glancing warily at Draco. "May I have my date back?"

"Oh. Right. Yeah," Draco said quickly, letting go of Hermione immediately and stepping away. Neville was right – the first dance was long over, and neither one of them had noticed. "She's all yours, Longbottom." He gave the boy a pat on the back, to which Neville responded with a fearful squeak.

Draco began to laugh at the boy's reaction, but immediately stopped when he noticed Hermione glaring at him.

"Draco!" Pansy called to him as she made her way through the crowd to get to him. She reached out and grabbed his hand. "It's my turn, now." She scowled over at Hermione and said, "Nice dress, Granger. Reminds me of something my family's house elf used to clean with."

"Pansy, retract your claws," Draco warned. He gave Hermione a look that said, _see what I mean? All the girls are jealous of you…_

Pansy pouted. "Why are you so defensive over the mudblood?" she asked as she led him far away from Hermione and Neville.

"I'm not _defensive_," Draco said. "I would just prefer to spend the night having a good time, not listening to you insult Granger."

"I remember a time when you thought insulting Granger _was_ a good time," Pansy said quietly as they began to dance.

"Yeah, well _now_, insulting Granger could lead to me losing my place as Head Boy," he said as he took Pansy into his arms. She did not feel the same in his arms as Hermione did; she did not fit quite as well.

"I guess that would not be a good thing," Pansy said thoughtfully.

"Gee, you think?"

Pansy smiled seductively. "What do you say we engage in some _tomfoolery_? You know…get ourselves kicked out of here and go back to your common room, where we can be all alone?"

"Ah, tomfoolery. Yet _another_ thing the Head Boy should not do," Draco said. He glanced over Pansy's shoulder at Hermione, who looked miserable dancing with Neville – not because it was _Neville_ she was dancing with, he figured, but probably because of whom she _wasn't_ dancing with.

"Well then, maybe _after_ the Ball, then?" Pansy asked, beginning to sound a bit desperate.

"Yeah, maybe," Draco mumbled as the song ended.

Three songs later, he let go of Pansy and said, "I'm going to go get something to drink and maybe sit the next dance out."

Pansy pouted again. "But I still feel like dancing," she complained.

"I'll fill in for Draco while he takes a break," Blaise said, appearing out of nowhere.

"What will your date think of that?" Draco asked.

Blaise shrugged. "I have no idea. If you see here, why don't you ask her?"

"You've lost your date already, Zabini?" Pansy said.

Blaise nodded. "Apparently, she likes members of the opposite sex _a lot_. One member in particular – some Sixth Year, I think. I dunno, I saw them sneak off together two songs ago. Probably to go conduct some tomfoolery in the bushes outside."

Pansy giggled. "Poor Zabini, you must be heartbroken."

"I'm getting over it quickly," he said. He glanced over at Draco. "So, do you mind if I steal your date while you're away?"

"Go right ahead," Draco said, hoping for Pansy's sake that he didn't sound _too_ fine with it. But honestly, he couldn't have cared less if Blaise danced with her for the rest of the evening.

He turned around and began to head for the refreshment table just as the next song – a nice, slow one – began, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw what was happening across the room: Harry had approached Hermione and Neville and was saying something to Neville, who nodded and promptly walked away from them. Harry then said something to Hermione that made her blush and smile, and before Draco realized what was happening, Harry was pulling her into his arms. The git had asked her to dance, and she had accepted!

Fuming, Draco continued over to the refreshment table where he served himself a goblet of punch. He made his way over to one of the empty tables, keeping his eyes on Harry and Hermione the entire time. He hadn't seen her looking this happy in a long time – it was obvious she was positively glowing with contentment. It figured that Potter would be the only one who could make her look like that.

He sat and watched them dancing and smiling and laughing for what seemed like forever, and he started hating Harry more and more with each second that passed.

"They look lovely together, don't they?" a sarcastic voice said from behind him.

Draco looked over his shoulder to see Ginny standing there, staring intently at Hermione and Harry on the dance floor. She shifted her gaze to him and said, "Is this seat taken?" She motioned to the chair beside him.

He shook his head. "Be my guest."

Ginny plopped down beside him and went back to watching her boyfriend slow dance with her best friend.

"You know, I don't think he's taken his eyes off her _once_ since she arrived," she said with a frown.

"Well what did you expect?" Draco snapped. "You turned your best friend into the most beautiful girl at the Ball. You should have thought twice about that if the fact your boyfriend is flirting with her _bothers_ you."

"I just wanted to help her!" Ginny exclaimed. "Until just a couple of days ago, she didn't even have a date, and I could tell she was feeling lousy about it. I mean, she's always hanging around me and Harry, and Ron and Lavender, and I know she feels left out. I just wanted to make everything perfect for her tonight. I figured if we made her look beautiful, she'd feel better about herself, and – oh, just forget I said anything. Why am I even telling you any of this?"

Draco sighed. "Because, Weaslette, you're angry at her. Right now she is dancing with your boyfriend, and they are looking quite cozy together, and it bothers you. So, you thought you would gripe about it to her worst enemy, hoping that maybe I would join in and we could have one big Hermione bash fest. But to be completely honest, I'm not really in the mood right now."

Ginny gaped at him. "That is _not_ why I came over here," she said defensively. "And besides, since when are you Hermione's _worst enemy_? I thought those days were long gone. I thought you two were friends now."

"Who told you _that_?"

"Hermione did. She said you'd agreed on some sort of a truce with each other."

Draco chuckled. "Yeah, well, that certainly doesn't make us _friends_."

Ginny glanced sideways at him. "Oh. Then are you…_more_ than friends?"

"_Granger_?" Draco sputtered. "And _me_? Hell no!"

"Well then why is it that when you look over at her dancing with Harry, you look about as terrible as I _feel_?"

Draco opened his mouth to argue with her, but no words came out. Was it really that obvious to everyone that he couldn't stand the sight of Hermione and Harry dancing so close in each other's arms?

Finally, Draco mumbled, "You're a clever one, Weaslette."

Ginny smiled slightly. "Have you told her how you feel?"

Draco groaned. "Tell her how I feel? I don't feel _anything_ for her. She's my roommate, nothing more."

"But you just so much as admitted that you're jealous of her dancing with Harry!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Keep your voice down!" Draco hissed. He glanced around to make sure no other students were near enough to hear their conversation. He leaned in closer and said quietly, "Look, Weaslette, I know you think you're pretty smart, but I do not – I repeat _do not_ – have _feelings_ for Hermione Gra -"

"Watch out! Coming through!" a voice behind them yelled. Quickly, Draco pulled away from Ginny, just in time for Peeves to make his way between them, and to knock over everything that was on their table.

The music stopped abruptly, and everyone stopped dancing. A few of the students cried out as he whizzed by them, while others whistled and motioned for him to come over to them.

"What the hell is he doing?" Draco mumbled. Ginny shrugged.

"Peeves!" Professor McGonagall yelled as he passed by her, practically destroying everything in his path. "Peeves, you stop right this instant!"

Humming a Christmas tune as he floated around the room, he held up his hand to reveal what looked like some sort of leafy plant. When the poltergeist finally stopped moving, Draco was able to focus on the object more, and he quickly realized it was _mistletoe_. Suddenly, Draco understood why so many of the students wanted Peeves to fly over them – they wanted a good excuse to kiss their dates without getting reprimanded by the teachers. He couldn't help but smirk.

However, his smirk immediately vanished as Peeves made a beeline for the couple standing in the center of the dance floor – Hermione and Harry.

"Potter and Granger!" Peeves squealed. He floated above them and held the mistletoe directly over their heads. "You must kiss beneath the mistletoe!"

Everyone in the Great Hall - save Draco, Ginny, Harry, Hermione and all of the professors - let out a collective _"oooh!"_

"PEEVES!" McGonagall yelled as she made her way over to him. "I am warning you!"

"'Tis tradition, madam. It would be bad luck for these two to step out from beneath the mistletoe without a kiss!" Peeves said with a smirk.

Draco sat up straight in his chair and stared intently at Hermione, who appeared to be positively humiliated. Her cheeks had turned a bright shade of pink, and though it somehow made her appear even more beautiful, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

He glanced over at Ginny, who stared blankly ahead; her lips pursed together firmly. She appeared to be holding her breath.

And then he glanced back over at Hermione and Harry, who both looked quite uncomfortable. He stared at Hermione, silently willing her to look his way. But she didn't. Instead, she kept sneaking sheepish glances at Harry, who looked like he wasn't quite sure what he should do.

"Kiss her, Harry!" a voice called out from the crowd. The voice sounded suspiciously like Colin Creevey's.

Students all over the room cheered and whistled, while a few others repeated, _"Kiss her! Kiss her!"_ over and over.

McGonagall looked quite perturbed – probably because a kiss under the mistletoe went strictly against part of her _no tomfoolery_ rule, but at the same time, it was tradition to kiss whilst under a mistletoe and, well, she was a stickler for tradition. She gave a short nod to Harry and Hermione, as if to say, _go ahead and do it, but get it over with quickly_.

At least, that must have been how Harry had interpreted it, for he immediately leaned in toward Hermione…and kissed her straight on the lips.

Draco and Ginny both inhaled sharply at the same time, and Draco held his breath, waiting for the two to part.

A few seconds passed, and he couldn't wait any longer. He had to get out of there. "Fuck this," he said, his voice drowned out by all of the squeals and whistles of his fellow classmates. He pushed his chair back, stood up, and stormed off, bumping into Pansy in the process.

"Draco! Where are you going?" she asked as he brushed past her and Blaise. He ignored her completely and continued on his way, heading for the exit.

The second he was outside in the hallway, he stopped and thrust his fist into the wall, pretending it was Harry Potter's face. The pain shot up his arm, but he didn't even flinch. He didn't even notice the blood that was running down his fingers, from the gash the wall had caused. He just swore a few times and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down, but it wasn't really helping much. It was all he could do to just sit there, and not go pull Potter away from Hermione and beat the shit out of him.

"Draco? What's wrong?"

He looked up to see that Pansy had followed him out. She stared down at the wound on his hand. "What's gotten into you?"

"Just leave me alone, Pansy," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"You're hurt," she said, taking a step toward him.

Draco shot up from the floor and took a step away from her. "I said leave me alone, okay?"

"But -"

Draco turned on his heel and began to walk away. "Don't follow me," he ordered, without even glancing back at her.

He wasn't sure where he was going; he just knew it had to be somewhere far away from the Ball. Seeing Hermione lock lips with Harry was more than he could handle, and he knew if he stayed, he would attempt to kill Harry by the end of the evening. _That _would not be a wise thing for the Head Boy to do, either.

Fortunately for him, Pansy did not follow. He couldn't blame her. Why would she _want_ to, after he had just ditched her without so much as an explanation?

He headed straight for the Head students' tower. When he arrived home, he grumbled the password to the portrait, which gave him a quizzical look.

"Why aren't you at the Ball?" the knight asked.

"Go to hell," Draco snapped, disappearing through the portrait hole the second it opened up.

"Fine, be that way!" he heard the portrait huff as the door closed behind him.

Draco stomped into the common room. His hand began to throb. He took a look at it – it had already turned a dark purple color from the bruise, and it was still bleeding – though not as bad as before.

"Shit," he mumbled as he noticed he'd gotten blood on his white dress shirt. He quickly removed his robes and his bowtie and headed for the bathroom to clean up. The first thing he did was rinse his wounded hand with some soap and water, and then carefully bandaged it up. Then, he removed his dress shirt and tried scrubbing out the bloodstain, but to no avail. After about five minutes, he realized he could just do a quick, simple cleaning spell on it, but opted not to. It wasn't even worth it. Instead, he grasped both sides of the shirt with his hands and pulled on it until it ripped in half. It wasn't really the best thing to do, but it sure did feel good to do it.

He crumpled up both pieces of the shirt and threw them into the trashcan. He then glanced up at himself in the mirror, and was shocked to see just how angry he looked. It was one thing to feel the anger deep down inside, but it was quite another to be able to visibly see it. He had to admit it frightened him a bit.

He wasn't sure how long he remained in the bathroom, but it was quite a while before he left for his bedroom, to change into some casual clothes. By the time he was dressed, he was feeling a little better, though a bit foolish for acting like such such a git. He wondered if this would be the first time Pansy would not forgive him.

Exiting his bedroom, he was shocked to see that Hermione was just entering the common room, a dreamy smile plastered on her face.

"Oh!" she said in surprise when she saw him. "Malfoy – you're home early."

"And you're home _late_," Draco said coolly, leaning up against the wall.

Hermione shook her head. "_Late_? What are you talking about? The Ball isn't even over yet."

"Yeah, well you told me that you'd be leaving soon after our dance," Draco reminded her. "What changed your mind?"

Hermione frowned slightly. "Nothing changed my mind. I said I'd be leaving early, so I left early."

Draco pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer to her. "Yeah, but not before you had a chance to dance with Potter."

The distaste in his voice made her flinch. "I didn't stay just so that I could dance with Harry," she said defensively.

"Oh, so then you stayed so that you could _kiss_ him, then?"

The familiar blush crept up in Hermione's cheeks. "N-no," she stammered.

"It's okay, Granger, no need to be embarrassed," he said with false sincerity. "You got to kiss the love of your life. Good for you! You should be floating on cloud nine right now. And I'll bet you are."

"Malfoy -"

"But please," he continued, interrupting her. "Spare me the details, alright? A mudblood making out with Boy Wonder is not exactly a picture I'd like to have painted for me. No offense."

Hermione opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. She looked genuinely hurt by his comment. But instead of crying – something that the old Hermione from their first and second years would have done – she scowled at him and said indignantly, "We were _not_ making out."

"Oh yeah?" Draco said. "Try telling that to the Weaslette."

Hermione's features softened a bit. "Ginny understands. She was fine with it."

"_Was_ she, now? Really? Because the last time I saw her, she looked anything but _fine_. In fact, she looked like a girl who had just witnessed her boyfriend kissing her best friend."

"It wasn't our fault. She knows that! We _had_ to kiss under that mistletoe - and it was a chaste kiss, at that! If Ginny wants someone to blame, she can blame Peeves. But I'm pretty sure she was okay with the whole thing. She knows there is absolutely nothing going on between Harry and myself."

Draco burst out laughing. "Good one, Granger. I take it you've never told her of the feelings you've been harboring for Harry for the past few years, then? I guess you've failed to tell her how hot and bothered he makes you, every time he enters the room. I guess you've never shown her your diary, which I'm _sure_ is just chock-full of all sorts of sexual fantasies you've had about him. I'm betting if she knew all of that, she wouldn't be as _fine_ with that kiss as you seem to think she is."

Hermione glared at him. "What do you even know about _anything_, Malfoy? You know _nothing_ of how I feel about _anyone_, and you have _no idea_ of the types of things I write about in my diary. How _dare_ you presume to know how I feel about Harry? And since when do you care about Ginny's feelings? You hate her – like you hate Harry, like you hate Ron…like you hate _me_. So don't pretend like this is of any concern to you."

Her defensive tone somehow seemed to make him even angrier, and when she pushed past him toward her bedroom, he was unable to let her leave just yet.

"Don't you find it funny at all, Granger?" he called after her, before she had a chance to open her bedroom door. She stopped and turned around, glaring daggers at him.

"Do I find _what_ funny, Malfoy?"

"Well, you know…you show up at the Ball looking like…like _that -" _He motioned to her attire. "You put on a pretty gown and you fix your hair and you put on the makeup, and suddenly, you're attractive. Suddenly, not only does everyone at the Ball notice you, but _he_ notices you as well. Imagine that! Potter noticed a beautiful girl, and suddenly he wants to dance with you, and flirt withyou, and kiss you. Meanwhile, you eat his attention up and you enjoy every second of it, not even _once_ stopping to realize what is really going on. You've been in love with Potter forever, Granger. And he has never noticed it. He's never noticed _you_ - until _tonight_, of course. He looked at you tonight, and he saw a beautiful young woman standing in front of him. But he did not see Hermione Granger – he did not see the real you. He saw the person he would _like_ you to be. But you're not that person, Granger. You're not ball gowns and hair and makeup, or other superficial things. To him, you are _nothing_ if you're not that person. Do you understand that? Tomorrow, you're going to go back to being boring old Hermione Granger, and he's going to go back to his beautiful Weaslette girlfriend and never give you another romantic thought ever again. Isn't that funny, Granger? Don't you just find the whole thing _hilarious_?"

Hermione tried hard to blink back the tears that had begun to form in her eyes, but it was impossible for her to hold them back. When Draco had finally stopped talking and noticed how upset he'd made her, he instantly felt like an asshole.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," she said through clenched teeth, though she spoke calmly and softly. "Thank you so much for ruining my perfect evening." She turned around, opened the door to her bedroom, and slammed it shut behind her.

Draco stood there for a moment, feeling numb. He hadn't actually planned out that whole speech before giving it to her. If he had, he would have decided not to recite it. What he said was harsh - he knew that. He knew what he'd said had hurt her, and he felt bad. But _he_ felt hurt as well. He was hurt that she devoted so much of her time to pining over someone who didn't love her. He was hurt that she had appeared to enjoy dancing with Harry much more than dancing with _him_. And as usual, the only way he knew how to deal with that hurt was by hurting_ her_.

He paced back and forth in front of her room contemplating what to do. Part of him thought he should apologize to her immediately, but another part of him thought he should give her the rest of the night to calm down first. But eventually, the first part of him won out, and he found himself knocking on her bedroom door.

It took her a few seconds to answer. When she finally did, she swung open the door and stood there, staring at him.

She was a mess. She had already changed out of her gown and into her usual comfortable muggle clothes. She had taken her hair out of the bun, and it now hung loosely, but uncombed, past her shoulders. Beneath her eyes were dark smudges from where her mascara and eyeliner had run, due to the fact she had been crying. Draco wasn't sure how it was even possible, but even in her current distressed state, she still managed to look beautiful.

They stared at each other for a few moments before Draco finally said, in a voice barely about a whisper, "I'm sorry."

Hermione gave a slight nod, as if she were silently accepting his apology. Maybe she would have voiced her acceptance too, but Draco didn't even give her the chance. Before he could stop himself, he leaned over and kissed her.

He could sense her hesitation the second their lips touched, and for a brief moment, he contemplated pulling away. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He had wanted this for so long, and the fact that she hadn't pushed him away and slapped him yet encouraged him to continue.

Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She did not object; in fact, she reached her own arms up slowly and wrapped them around his neck as she finally began to kiss him back.

Draco's heart began to pound in his chest. _What were they doing?_

His grasped tightened around her waist as he lightly brushed his tongue up against hers, hesitantly – as if testing the waters. He was almost certain that would be enough for her to break away, but he was wrong. In fact, she responded by allowing him to deepen the kiss – something he wasted no time in doing.

The sudden intensity of the kiss drove Draco wild. Before he knew what he was doing, he was shifting her so that her back was firmly pressed up against the frame of the door. He pressed his body up against hers, needing to be as close to her as possible.

The kiss went on for a few more brief moments before suddenly, Hermione gasped and pushed him away as hard as she could.

She immediately brought her hand to her mouth as she stared in shock at him. Draco stared back, trying to catch his breath...trying to prevent his heart from leaping out of his chest.

Her shocked expression soon turned into a mortified one. Slowly, she moved out of the doorway and into the common room, never once breaking eye contact with him.

He wanted her to say something. _Anything_ would have been better than the awkward silence and the look she was giving him. But when it appeared as though she wasn't going to speak, he took a step toward her and said, "Granger -"

She immediately took a step back and shook her head slightly. He wasn't sure whether it was her way of telling him not to say anything, or if she was just doing it because she was in disbelief over what had just taken place. He was not about to find out which one it was, however, because immediately after, she turned around and ran - ran out of the common room; out of the portrait hole, leaving Draco alone in the common room, asking himself what the hell just happened...

* * *

**_December 20th_**

The next morning, Draco waited as long as he possibly could before exiting his bedroom, in hopes that Hermione had already left to go do something with her friends. She hadn't arrived back home last night by the time he had finally gone to bed, and he stayed awake half the night wondering where she was. He spent half of the evening worrying about whether or not she was okay, while he spent the _other_ half (after he'd heard her return home) worrying about what would happen when he encountered her in the morning. He was not anxious to find out.

However, he knew he wouldn't be able to wait all day for her to leave, for there was always the chance Hermione would never leave the vicinity that day. So, he took a deep breath and made his way out into the common room and headed toward the bathroom.

Unfortunately, Hermione was coming out of the bathroom just as Draco neared it. She smelled like strawberries again. He did his best to avoid her gaze, but it was nearly impossible to do so when she nearly plowed into him. Obviously, she had been too distracted to notice he was standing there.

"Oh!" she cried out when she saw him. Quickly, she stepped out of his way to clear his path to the bathroom. "Good morning," she said politely.

"'Morning," Draco mumbled as he continued on his way. He didn't like ignoring her, but he didn't know what else to do.

"Wait, Malfoy," she said, just as Draco was about to shut the door behind him.

He stopped and looked at her expectedly.

"Look," she said, lowering her gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry. You know, about last night…the way I just ran off like that. You see, I -"

"Granger," he interrupted her. "You don't owe me an apology, and you don't owe me an explanation either, okay? What happened last night was a mistake, and I would like it if we could just forget it ever happened."

Hermione's face fell. "Oh," she said quietly. "It was a mistake?"

"Well, yeah," Draco said, even though deep down he knew it hadn't been. "We'd had an argument…there was tension...one thing led to another...It just happened, all right? It didn't mean anything."

"Right," Hermione said. "Yeah, I know that. I just…no, you're right. It was a mistake, and it will never happen again."

"Never," Draco agreed.

"Never again." Hermione nodded. "I just don't want things to be awkward between us, because of it."

Draco sighed. "Well it _will_ be awkward if you keep bringing it up. Let's just forget it ever happened, agreed?" He held his hand out to her.

She took his hand in her own and shook it. "Agreed."

Their hands remained clasped together for a moment longer, before Draco quickly let go and said, "Well, I'm going to take a shower."

"Right. Yes, good idea. And I'm going to go meet up with Ginny."

"That's a good idea, too," Draco said. "I'll see you later." With that, he shut the bathroom door in front of him, separating him from Hermione. Gently, he banged his head up against the wall, silently regretting everything he had just said to her.

He actually did _not_ end up seeing her later. They both stayed out with their friends until late that night, and they both arrived home at different times and immediately proceeded to their own bedrooms. As much as they didn't want things to be awkward between them, it could not be avoided. That kiss had changed their relationship – whatever their relationship had been beforehand - and Draco figured it would most likely be a long time before things were back to normal for them.

If only he had known what little time they had.

* * *

A/N: I HATE writing kissing scenes! It's enough to make me want to pull my hair out. I love _reading_ kissing scenes, but writing them is a big pain in the butt. I really should stick with writing non-romantic stories. It would be a lot less stressful for me. Does anyone have any good advice on how to write a really good kissing scene? If so, I would love to hear it. :D  



	11. Change

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry it's been so long since I last updated this story. I've just been suffering from the worst writer's block. I finally realized that one of my problems is that I just had too many things planned for this particular chapter, so I decided to break it up into two different chapters. Otherwise, it would have been over ten thousand words. Yikes. I have a lot of Chapter 12 written, so hopefully it won't take as long for me to update again. Hopefully, my writer's block is not apparent in this chapter. If it sucks, at least I have an excuse, right? I hope some of you are still reading it!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

A pair of delicate hands wrapped around from behind him and covered his eyes. "Guess who?" 

There was no need for him to guess. He knew that voice anywhere – it sent chills down his spine whenever he heard it.

"Let go," he mumbled, reaching up to gently pry the hands away from his eyes. He turned around to face her. "You have to stop this."

She frowned slightly. "I was just having some fun. If I knew you were so averse to having your eyes covered, I never would have done it."

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it." He took one step back from her. "You can't keep haunting my dreams like this."

She stared at him sadly. "You don't want to see me anymore." It was a statement more than a question. She lowered her eyes to the floor and said softly, "Is it because of _her_?"

"Who?"

"_Her_ – the other one." She glanced back up at him with a frantic look in her eyes. "She's not me, Draco."

"Don't you think I realize that?" he said, practically shouting at her. "I _know_ she's not you!"

"Well you need to remember that," she said urgently. "She is not who you think she is."

"Then who is she?"

She shook her head. "Just…don't forget about me."

"I could never forget about you," he said. "You know that. That's why you're here. That's why I see you every night the second I close my eyes. That's why my heart aches every time I walk past your bedroom - or every time a professor asks the class a particularly hard question, and you're not there to answer it. That's why I spend all day, every day, just struggling to get through it all. I spend so much of my time thinking about you, sometimes I forget to _breathe._"

She reached out a hand and rested it gently on the side of his face. She leaned in and pressed her lips lightly against his.

Draco quickly drew back away from her, as if the touch of her lips had burned him. "Don't," he said.

She stood there, looking crestfallen. "Draco, please -"

She did not get a chance to finish her plea. Before Draco knew what was happening, a sharp object – what appeared to be a sword – impaled Hermione from behind.

Her eyes grew wide as she stared down at the object protruding from her abdomen. She reached one arm behind her back and slowly pulled it out. She brought it around to the front and held it in the palm of both of her hands, looking at it curiously.

"Why?" she whispered, glancing over at him with a pained expression on her face. "_Why did you kill me_?"

* * *

Draco's eyes flew open. Immediately, he sat up in his bed and buried his face in his hands. He had been so positive these dreams would stop with the arrival of this otherworldly Hermione, but apparently he had been wrong. He inhaled sharply, holding the air in his lungs for a few moments before slowly exhaling. These dreams used to impair him for a good part of the day. Now they were just a minor annoyance he'd gotten so used to living with. 

As he stumbled out of bed, he wondered if he was late for class – judging from the bright sunlight that was trying to peak through the curtains. But then he remembered it was Sunday. He considered just going back to sleep, but when he suddenly remembered the girl that was occupying Hermione's bedroom, he figured it would be best to go check on her. It wasn't that he necessarily didn't _trust_ her, but…well, actually, that was _exactly_ what it was. If he didn't trust her before, he certainly didn't trust her after the dream he just had.

_She is not who you think she is_. He knew he shouldn't give much credence to what people said in his dreams, but it was _Hermione_ who'd said it. It didn't matter to him if the words came directly from _her_, or from the figment his imagination had dreamed up while he was a sleep. He trusted her. He did _not_ trust this carbon copy of her.

He stepped out of his room and headed for the common room, hoping to find the new Hermione there. He wouldn't put it past her to leave the premises, even though she had been asked not to. Draco could sense that this Hermione was not as much a stickler for rules in her world, as the Hermione was in _his_.

His breath caught in his throat the moment he saw her curled up on the couch. She was dressed in muggle clothes – jeans, a pale blue sweatshirt, and sneakers – _Hermione's_ clothes. And her hair was not smooth and straight like it had been the day before. Today it was curly, frizzy and bushy. She was now a complete spitting image of Hermione, and it angered Draco.

"What the hell are you wearing?" he demanded.

Hermione jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, but smiled and said, "Good morning to you, too."

"What are you wearing?" he asked again.

She sat up straight on the couch and glanced down at herself. "I'm wearing clothes. I got them from Hermione's closet -"

"Take them off," Draco ordered.

Hermione blinked. "_Excuse_ me?"

Draco shook her head. "You know what I mean, Granger. Go change."

"I don't exactly have anything to change into," Hermione said. "All I brought with me for clothes were the ones I was wearing."

"So put them back on," Draco said, beginning to lose his patience. "And while you're at it, change your hair back as well."

Hermione's hand shot up to her head where she caressed her hair and said, "This _is_ changed back. This is how my hair is naturally. I use a spell to make it straight."

"Then use the damn spell!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you being so rude?"

"Look, Granger," Draco said, folding his arms across his chest, "if you want to stay here in this world, you're going to need to follow a few simple rules. The first rule is that you will _not_ prance around looking like – like _that_. Nobody is really going to appreciate it, okay? You're not her, so don't even try to pretend to be."

"I wasn't -" Hermione shut her mouth, probably figuring she should not waste her breath trying to explain herself. Judging from the look on her face, she was quite hurt by Draco's words. "I don't have anything else to wear. I can't just wear my one school uniform for the rest of the time I'm here."

"Then we'll go shopping after you get done changing."

"I don't have any money."

Draco sighed. "Yeah, well _I_ do, so let _me_ worry about it. Just go get changed and we'll go."

"But Dumbledore said -"

"Do you honestly care what that old man said? Besides, what he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, but said, "I'll just be a minute."

She got up from the couch to head to Hermione's room, but Draco stopped her. "Do you know any hair color changing spells?"

"Sure," she replied.

"Well then use one," he said. "Make yourself look as different as possible."

She nodded and disappeared into the bedroom.

Draco took this opportunity to take a quick shower. Usually, he was not the one to recommend a shopping trip to a girl – it was always the other way around. He hated shopping – especially clothes shopping with a female. Sometimes, Pansy would take hours to decide on everything she wanted, while making him stand around and give her his opinion on whether or not everything looked good on her. But this shopping trip would be worth it, if it meant this girl would not have to steal Hermione's _entire_ identity.

After his shower, Draco performed a quick drying spell on his hair and headed into his room, where he retrieved two black hooded cloaks from his closet. When he re-entered the common room, he was pleased to find that he barely recognized the girl on the couch.

It was amazing how much hair color and style could change the look of someone. She had taken it upon herself to not only straighten her hair, but she had colored it a pale blonde, almost silver color – kind of like _his_.

"How did I do?" she asked.

Draco cleared his throat. "You did okay. Here, put this on." He tossed her one of the cloaks.

She caught it with one hand and glanced down at it curiously. "What's this for?"

"It's a cloak. I want you to put it on. The hood will go a long way in hiding your face."

Hermione shrugged and put on the cloak. She frowned. "It's way too big."

"That's the whole point, Granger. We need this cloak to hide as much of you as possible. I'll be wearing one as well. I don't want anyone I know to recognize me and come over and strike up a conversation."

Hermione nodded. "I understand." She flipped the hood up over her head and then grinned at Draco – or at least, he _thought_ she grinned at him. It was hard to tell, due to the shadows cast over her face from the hood. _Perfect_.

"We'd better leave now," Draco said, heading toward the portrait hole. "It's early, so everyone should still be at breakfast. If we're lucky nobody will see us, this will be a quick trip, and we'll be back before anyone finds out we're gone."

"What happens if we get caught?"

"We'll worry about that if and when it happens." He stepped to the side and stopped. "After you," he said, motioning to the portrait hole.

Hermione nodded and walked past him.

The second they exited the portrait hole, the knight in the portrait gave them a cheerful greeting.

"Oh! Mr. Malfoy!" he exclaimed. "Good morning to you! Hey, who's you're friend?"

Draco ignored him and gently pushed Hermione along, silently urging her to ignore him as well. As they walked down the hallway, he could hear the knight grumbling something that wasn't very nice.

The trek to Hogsmeade was surprisingly trouble-free. Sundays were usually pretty quite around the school for most of the morning. Many of the students were busy sleeping in, having stayed up pretty late the night before, hanging out with their friends. There was a day when Draco would sleep in for a better part of a Sunday as well, usually due to the fact that he'd spend every Saturday night fooling around with his fellow Slytherins, causing mayhem well into the early hours of Sunday morning. Of course, those days were long gone. Now, he was getting up bright and early on a Sunday morning to take a strange girl he'd met just two nights ago on a _shopping trip._

When they arrived at Hogsmeade, Hermione finally spoke. "Wow…okay, this place looks a little different."

Draco responded with a grunt. He really didn't care how similar the Hogsmeade in this world was to the one in hers. He just wanted to get this over with. "That's great, Granger. What do you say we go to Gladrags first?"

Hermione shrugged. "Sure. Wherever you want to go is fine with me."

They headed for the shop, which was located at the end of the street. On the way, they passed by quite a few people, but luckily nobody from Hogwarts. It was also fortunate for them that nobody seemed to even give them a second glance.

"In my world, Gladrags is right there," Hermione said, pointing to a small shop over to the left. She stopped suddenly, staring at the shop's sign. "Wait, what _is_ that shop?"

Draco looked to where she was pointing and balked. "It's nothing that interesting," he said, grabbing her arm to make her start walking again. But she easily shrugged off his hand and headed in the shop's direction.

He followed closely on her heels. "Look, I said it's not a very interesting shop," he insisted. "They don't even sell clothing, which is why we're here. Remember?"

"_Bagatelles_," Hermione read the sign aloud. "Hmm. We don't have this shop in my world. Can we check it out? Please? I promise to be quick. I just want to have a look around."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but she was already opening the door and entering the shop. It was a little too late for him to object now.

Reluctantly, he followed her inside. He would have let her go in by herself, but he couldn't risk letting her loose to roam around on her own. For all he knew, she could have been trying to use this as an opportunity to ditch him.

"Wow," she breathed the minute she stepped foot into the shop. "It's a trinket shop! How lovely!"

"Yeah," Draco mumbled. Quickly, he turned his head when he saw the shop owner glance curiously over at them. "Well, you've seen it now. Can we go?"

"Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco froze as the shop's owner walked over to him.

"Draco Malfoy, is that you?" the elderly man asked.

Groaning inwardly, Draco pushed back his hood and smiled an insincere smile. "Mr. Mortimer. Hello."

The old man grinned. "I just knew it was you! How have you been, young man? How is the lucky lady enjoying her gift?"

Draco's smile vanished.

The old man seemed to notice Draco's sudden change in expression. Glancing at him with a concerned look on his face, he said, "She _did _like the gift, didn't she?"

"Yes," Draco replied in a strained voice. "She liked it very much."

"Good! Good!" The old man beamed and glanced over at Hermione, who was making sure she was standing with her back facing them. "Now, who do we have here?"

"He-Henrietta. She's a friend," Draco said quickly. He moved closer to Hermione and grabbed her arm. "And we were just leaving."

"But you just got here!"

"Yes, well, we're on a tight schedule. She just wanted to come in and see what kind of things you sell. She's not much of a trinket person, are you Henrietta?"

Hermione shook her head.

Draco smiled at the old man. "I tried telling her this wasn't her type of shop, but she just had to see for herself. Well, I'll see you later."

"Okay then! Have a pleasant day, young Malfoy!" The old man waved as Draco and Hermione exited the shop.

"No more detours," Draco growled at her once they were outside. "Let's just do what we came here to do."

"What gift was he talking about?" Hermione asked.

"It doesn't concern you, Granger," Draco snapped as they neared Gladrags. "Now, once we're in there, just quickly pick out anything that you like, and hand it all to me."

"How much am I allowed to get?"

Draco sighed. "Honestly, Granger, I don't care. Pick out everything in the store if you want. I don't care how much you get, or _what_ you get, just so long as you will stop wearing _Hermione's_ clothes."

He couldn't really tell, but he was sure Hermione was giving him a curious look from within the shadows of the cloak's hood.

"Why are you so against me wearing her clothes?" she asked.

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

Hermione fell silent. She followed him inside Gladrags, where they appeared to be the only two customers. Immediately, she headed over to the young witches section and began to browse.

Draco, meanwhile, stood in front of the shop's window, looking out at the people passing by. It was amazing how many of those people looked _happy_ – as if they hadn't a care in the world. Couples walked by hand-in-hand looking very much in love, but most likely weren't even thinking about what it would be like if their significant other were to suddenly leave them forever. They most likely took for granted the fact that their lovers were with them right then and there. They most likely believed what they had would last forever –

"Okay, I'm ready."

Draco snapped out of his reverie at the sound of Hermione's voice behind him. He spun around to see her holding at least half a dozen articles of clothing. "You're done _already_?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you mean _already_? We've been here at least a half an hour."

"Oh, right," Draco said, feeling like an idiot. He had let his mind wander over by the window; to him, it had felt like they'd only been their a couple of minutes.

He grabbed the clothes out of her hands and brought them over to the counter, where a woman began to ring them up. "Did you pick out anything good?" he asked her.

Hermione shrugged. "I guess. I made sure to pick out anything that looked nothing like what I had seen in Hermione's closet. It wasn't too hard. She mostly had muggle clothing in there."

The woman behind the counter, who had been in the process of bagging up the clothes, stopped suddenly and said, "Hermione Granger?"

A wave of panic washed over Draco. Did the woman somehow manage to recognize her?

"Uh…excuse me?" Hermione said hesitantly. Draco heard a slight change in her voice, as if she was trying to disguise it.

The woman smiled. "I heard you mention the name Hermione. Were you talking about Hermione Granger?"

"Y-yes," Hermione stuttered.

"What a lovely girl she was," the woman said with a big grin. "She used to come in to the store with that Harry Potter boy and a couple of the Weasley children. She was always so pleasant. So full of _life…_" Slowly, the woman's smile faded. "What a terrible thing that happened. I couldn't believe it when I heard the news. Did you know her?"

"No," Hermione and Draco said simultaneously.

Draco cleared his throat and set his money down on the counter. "That should cover everything. Keep the change." He grabbed the bags containing the clothing and headed out the door with Hermione following close behind him.

"That was close," Hermione muttered. "I thought maybe she had recognized me."

"Well maybe if you hadn't been talking -"

"You _asked_ me a _question_!" she exclaimed.

"Shh," Draco hissed. "Keep your voice down."

He glanced around the street, which seemed a bit more crowded than it had when they'd gone into the store. He was starting to recognize some of the people as Hogwarts students. "We'd better get heading back."

Hermione nodded and began to walk off without him.

"Hey, slow down!" he called after her. He quickened his pace to catch up with her. "You should be more careful -"

He stopped when he saw a familiar-looking group of people heading in their direction: Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle. Instinctively, Draco bolted for the nearest alleyway between two shops. He reached over and grabbed the sleeve of Hermione's cloak, bringing her with him.

"Hey!" she protested as Draco quickly pushed her up against the side of the building and pressed his hand over her mouth. He brought a finger up to his lips to indicate that she remain quiet.

She stared up at him wide-eyed, but made no attempt to break free of his grasp. Instead, she remained perfectly quiet and still as they both heard voices approaching.

"I wonder where Draco was this morning?"

Draco recognized the voice as Crabbe's.

"Who cares?" This time, it was Blaise who spoke.

"Sod off, Zabini," Pansy said. "_I_ care."

"Well, you shouldn't," Blaise said.

Draco glanced over to see that the group had stopped walking right outside of the alley. Draco prayed that the shadows were doing a good job of hiding them.

"Oh yeah? And why shouldn't I, Zabini?"

Blaise seemed to be hesitating. "You know what?" he said finally. "Never mind. If you want to care about him, go right ahead. I just think you're a fool if you believe he actually cares about_ you_."

Draco could feel Hermione's eyes staring curiously up at him. He glanced down at her and shrugged slightly, as if to say he had no idea what Blaise Zabini was talking about.

"Fuck you, Zabini," Pansy spat. Draco glanced back over just in time to see her storm off.

"Sensitive bitch, isn't she?" Blaise said with a smirk.

Crabbe and Goyle both laughed and the three boys resumed their trek past the alleyway. Draco breathed a sigh of relief as soon as they were out of sight. He released his hand from Hermione's mouth.

She wasted no time in asking, "What was _that_ all about?"

"Nothing," Draco mumbled as he stepped away from Hermione, releasing the grip he'd still had on her arm. "Let's go."

He walked to the end of the alleyway and glanced both ways to make sure the coast was clear. Pansy was no longer anywhere in sight, and Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle were now making their way towards The Three Broomsticks. When Draco no longer saw anyone he recognized, he motioned for Hermione to follow him out of the dark alley.

When they were safely on their way back to Hogwarts, Hermione said, "Poor Pansy."

Draco glanced over at her. "Were you and Pansy friends in your world, or something?"

"No way," Hermione replied. "But still – Blaise was pretty rude to her just now. Is it true, what he said?"

"About Pansy being a sensitive bitch? Yes. Sometimes."

"No. I meant about…that you don't care about her?"

Draco groaned. "Granger, it's really none of your business."

"I know," Hermione said. "I know it's not, it's just…she's your _girlfriend_."

"How do you know she's my girlfriend?"

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "I read it - in Hermione's diary. She mentioned that you two were going out."

"Really?" Draco raised his eyebrows. Why would Hermione write about his relationship with Pansy in her diary? Of course, he was dying to ask what, exactly, Hermione had written, but he fought the urge to ask.

"Yes, really. So why don't you care about her, then?"

Draco sighed. "Granger, I really don't feel like talking about this right now, okay?"

"Fine," Hermione mumbled. She did not speak for the rest of the way back.

The halls of the school were fairly empty when they returned. Most of the students were now either down in Hogsmeade, or hanging out inside their common rooms. The occasional student they happened to pass by never even glanced over at them.

"See how easy this was, Granger?" Draco said as they neared their own common room.

"Welcome back, Mr. Malfoy and friend!" the knight in the portrait exclaimed. He grinned from ear to ear when he saw Draco approaching.

"Why are _you_ so happy?" he asked the portrait.

"Just tell me the password, and you can see for yourself!" the knight replied.

Draco sighed and muttered the password. As the portrait swung open, he heard the knight snicker and say, "Good luck!"

He exchanged a glance with Hermione as they walked through the portrait hole. When they entered the common room, Draco immediately removed his cloak and threw it over the side of the armchair. He froze when he noticed somebody was _sitting_ in that armchair.

Professor Dumbledore was staring up at them over his half-moon spectacles, not looking particularly happy.

"Mr. Malfoy. Miss Granger," the old man said calmly, "We need to talk."

* * *

Next up: Flashback to Christmas Eve. 


	12. Eve

**Author's Note: **Well, this chapter would have worked so much better if I'd been able to submit it before Christmas, but...well...it hadn't been written yet. Thanks so much for the reviews! And thanks so much to all of the people who are still sticking with this story. I was shocked to receive an e-mail earlier this week, telling me that this story has been nominated for two different awards over at the "He Had it Coming" Dramione awards site. Whoever nominated it seriously rocks! It really means a great deal to me. :D Anyway...long chapter. All flashback. Hopefully doesn't suck. I still have writer's block, but I'm forcing myself to write as I have it, so...that might (but hopefully not) start to reflect in my writing.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Except for any original character I happen to throw in here. I think there's only been one so far. Or two. Oh heck, it's my own story and I don't even know.

* * *

**_December 24th_**

"That will be forty-one galleons, eight sickles, and five knuts, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out the money. He handed the elderly man behind the counter forty-five galleons and said, "Keep the change."

The man gave him a pleasant smile. "Thank you, sir."

"No, thank _you_," Draco said, picking the box up from the counter. "I really appreciate you doing this for me – especially on such short notice."

"It was my pleasure," the man said. He placed the money Draco had handed him inside of the old-fashioned cash register. "You remind me so much of your father."

He knew the old man meant it as a compliment, but Draco did not _take_ it as one. He loathed being compared to his father in such a good light – as if being so much like his father was a _good_ thing.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "Happy Christmas."

"And a happy Christmas to _you_, Mr. Malfoy!" the jolly old man exclaimed as Draco exited the shop.

He stepped out of the old trinket shop feeling pretty satisfied with his purchase. He glanced down at the box in his hands and smiled. He had begun to worry a few days ago that it wouldn't be ready in time, but luckily he had received a message early that morning via owl, saying that the item was ready to be picked up at any time. So, right after breakfast he hurried down to Hogsmeade, to Bagatelles – a small specialty store that sold various enchanted items – to retrieve it.

Draco pulled his jacket tighter around himself to shut out the bitter coldness that hung in the air and glanced around at the busy street. It was the day before Christmas, and it appeared as though many people were rushing to finish their last minute shopping before the shops closed for the day. Luckily for Draco, he hadn't had to worry too much about Christmas shopping this year. Slytherins usually did not get into the habit of exchanging presents – not even the best of friends. The gesture was just too…_nice_ for them. He had, however, given Pansy a present – a particular dress she had pointed out to him in a shop window at the beginning of the year. She loved it, of course, and by the time she had even finished unwrapping it, she seemed to have forgotten about Draco's behavior at the Yule Ball. Or rather, she had chosen to ignore it. And then, she and the rest of his fellow Slytherin classmates had all gone home for the holidays. Draco had opted to stay at school this year – mainly due to the fact that since his father's death, his mother didn't seem to want much to do with him.

He sighed as he began his trek back to Hogwarts. He hated the Christmas season. Everyone was always so happy, it was sickening. He was actually glad he was going to be able to spend the holiday alone this year.

Draco stopped in his tracks when he spotted a young woman standing across the street, peering into one of the shop windows. _Well, not _completely_ alone_, he thought to himself. Even from behind, he recognized the girl as Hermione. It was hard not to recognize that hair of hers. He stood there for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should greet her, but she made it easy for him.

She caught his gaze in the reflection of the window and immediately turned around to face him. Her cheeks and nose were a rosy pink, most likely from the cold air. She looked freezing, despite the fact she was heavily clothed in winter gear, and she was hanging onto a steaming cup of liquid. "Hey," she said hesitantly.

"Hi," he said. He made no attempt to move closer to her. He was not sure exactly where they stood with each other. Things had remained awkward between them since the night of the Yule Ball, and they hadn't really spoken to each other since their brief conversation the morning after.

Hermione lowered her eyes to the package Draco held in his hands. "Last-minute shopping?"

"Yeah," Draco replied, covering the box as much as he could with his arm. "You?"

"No, I finished my shopping two months ago."

Draco chuckled. "That figures."

Hermione smiled. "I hate procrastinating. I love efficiency."

"I think everyone at Hogwarts is aware of that," Draco said. "So…where's your little group of friends?"

Hermione's smile faded as she stared down at the ground. "Oh, well…I don't know. Things are kind of weird between Harry and me right now. And because of that, things are also kind of weird between _Ron_ and me. And as for Ginny…well, Ginny doesn't like me too much right now."

"Oh." Draco tried to give her a sympathetic look. "You mean because of what happened at the Yule Ball?"

"Yeah," Hermione muttered. She glanced up at him. "I guess you were right about Ginny not being okay with it. She's quite angry with me right now. She accused me of trying to steal her boyfriend away. She said a few…_not nice_ things to me." Hermione shrugged. "Oh well, she'll get over it, I'm sure. She just needs some time. I'm sure Harry's doing everything in his power to show her that _she_ is the one he really loves, not me."

Draco detected sadness in her voice, but he couldn't tell if it was from the fact Harry really did love Ginny, or because one of her friends hated her guts. Perhaps it was both. Either way, Draco had to resist the urge to reach out his arm and give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"So you're here alone, then?" Draco asked.

"Nah. I came here with Luna. Although, she got distracted a few minutes ago, so I told her I was probably going to head back to school by myself and meet up with her later."

"Ah," Draco said. "Well would you like some company on the trek back? I was just heading there myself."

"Thanks," Hermione replied. "I'd like that, actually."

They began to walk side-by-side down the crowded street. Their silence should have felt uncomfortable, but surprisingly enough, it didn't.

"You know," Hermione piped up all of the sudden, "I don't even know why I stayed here for the holidays. I think I should've just gone home to be with my parents."

"Nonsense," Draco said. "You chose to stay here because it's your last Christmas here, and you wanted to spend it with your friends. Only, when you signed up at the beginning of the month, you didn't know your friends would be giving you the cold shoulder. But don't worry, Granger, Christmas has a strange way of making people forgive and forget. And why shouldn't it? I mean, Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year."

"Ah. Judging from the sarcasm in your voice, I'd say you're a regular Ebenezer Scrooge."

Draco stared at her blankly. "Ebenezer _what_?"

Hermione giggled. "Scrooge - Ebenezer Scrooge. He's an infamous character in a well-known muggle book. It's called _A Christmas Carol_. It's about a man named Ebenezer Scrooge, who's rich and spoiled, and who hates Christmas. And right before Christmas, he is visited by three different ghosts – the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future – who show him what a horrible person he has been his entire life, and how if he doesn't change soon, his future looks pretty grim."

"Granger, are you saying you think I'm a horrible person?"

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "No, that's not why I was comparing him to you at all. Really, it was only because you seem to dislike Christmas, and -"

"Relax, Granger," Draco said with a slight chuckle. "I was just playing. It sounds like an interesting story, actually."

"Oh, it is. It's one of my favorites." Hermione smiled. "You know, I probably have the book stashed away somewhere in my room, if you'd like to -"

Hermione's sentence got cut off when a young man came barreling up behind them and bumped into Hermione in the process of passing by them. The young man quickly continued on his way without apologizing for running into her.

"Hey!" Draco snarled. "Watch where you're going!"

But the boy either did not hear Draco, or he just didn't want to acknowledge him, because he never even looked back.

"Stupid git," Draco mumbled. He looked at Hermione. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Hermione replied, looking down at herself. "Except for the fact I've now got hot butterbeer all over myself."

Sure enough, the warm butterbeer Hermione had been holding on to was now splattered all over her jacket.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy! Miss Granger!" a voice called over to them. Draco turned his head to see Professor Trelawney passing by them on the street, a few shopping bags hanging from her arms.

"Hello," Draco mumbled in response. He had never been a huge fan of Professor Trelawney.

"Ready for Christmas, are you?" she asked, squinting at him through her thick, magnifying glasses.

"Not really," Draco muttered.

"How about you, Miss Granger?" their professor asked, turning to Hermione. "Are you -"

Suddenly, the woman gasped. Her features became slack and her eyes darkened. "Oh, you poor, poor child," she whispered.

Hermione shrugged. "It's just a little butterbeer. I have a spell that will take this stain out like nothing."

Professor Trelawney took a step closer to her, reaching out a hand and placing it gently on the side of Hermione's face. "Tomorrow," she said in a low, husky voice. "Tomorrow, you will die."

Hermione blinked. Draco smirked.

"Oh, the horror," Trelawney continued. She closed her eyes and withdrew her hand. "You will die a horrible, horrible death, and nothing will be able to save you. Nothing except -"

Suddenly, her eyes flew open and her gaze fell upon Hermione, as if seeing her for the first time. "Oh, Miss Granger," she said in her normal voice. She squinted at Hermione and pointed to her jacket. "You've spilled something on yourself, dear."

With that, Trelawney continued on her merry way, whistling a tune Draco did not recognize. The second she was out of earshot, Draco sniggered and said to Hermione, "Can you _believe_ that woman?"

Hermione did not respond. She just stared after Trelawney with an uneasy look on her face.

"Granger, please tell me you aren't taking her seriously?"

"Don't be daft," Hermione replied rather defensively. She had managed to tear her gaze away from Trelawney and was now glaring daggers at Draco. "Of course I'm not taking her seriously. And to be honest, I feel quite insulted that you would even _think_ I would."

Draco laughed as the two of them began walking again. "I apologize, Granger. I don't know how I could have even entertained the thought." He paused for a moment, then said, "Hey, do you remember in our third year, when Trelawney would predict Potter's death on a weekly basis?"

That brought a small smile to Hermione's lips. "Yes. How could I forget? I lost count of all of the times he was supposed to have been decapitated."

"I know! I waited patiently every week to receive the news that Potter had lost his head, but it never came. I've loathed that woman ever since. You can't just keep getting a guy's hopes up like that, you know?"

Hermione playfully punched his arm. "That's mean, Malfoy. I know you hate Harry, but I honestly don't think you hate him enough to wish decapitation on him."

Draco shrugged. He wasn't exactly in the mood to discuss with Hermione how much he hated her best friend – who also happened to be the boy she was in love with. Luckily for him, Hermione didn't seem to expect him to make a comment on the matter, as she quickly changed the subject.

"So are you attending the Christmas Eve feast tonight?" she asked.

"Hmm," Draco said thoughtfully. "Well, all of my favorite professors will be there. As will Potter and the Weasley duo. Gosh, how could I pass up an offer like that? Oh, bollocks," he said, snapping his fingers. "I just remembered that I was planning on poking out my eyes with sharp objects tonight. Oh well, I guess you'll all just have to have fun without me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It wouldn't kill you to get _involved_, you know. You might find that you actually _like -_"

"I might find I actually like Potter and the Weasleys?" Draco laughed. "Now _you're_ the one being daft, Granger."

Hermione frowned at him. "Well, suit yourself. If you'd rather have Christmas Eve dinner all alone -"

"I _would_ rather, Granger," Draco interrupted. "Let's just leave it at that."

They continued on in silence, until Hermione spoke up again. "So…what's in that box, anyway?" She pointed to the box he held tightly under his arm.

"If I thought it was any of your business, Granger, I would have told you already."

Hermione pouted. "Fine. I really don't care what's in there, anyway."

Draco smirked. "Oh, but you _do_ care, Granger. I can tell. You're just as nosy as the next person."

"I am not!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm not _nosy_. I'm…_curious_, is all."

"Mmhmm," Draco said, turning his smirk into a grin. "Well, maybe if you're nice to me, later I'll tell you what's in here."

"Whatever," Hermione said, her voice laced with indifference.

Draco's grin remained plastered to his face as he glanced over at Hermione walking beside him. She had stuck her nose up in the air, as if to get her point across that she couldn't care less whether or not he ever revealed to her what was in the box. He could tell she was just pretending to not care, and it amused him. Before he could stop himself, he burst out laughing.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "What's so funny?"

"Honestly? I have no idea, Granger."

But he was lying. He knew that what was so funny was the fact that they were walking back to school together, acting like _friends_. After years of loathing and tormenting between them, they were talking and joking around with each other. _Smiling_ with each other. And even after the awkwardness from their post-Yule Ball kiss, they were still able to look each other in the eye and speak to one another. It was amazing, really – how the person he spent so many years hating, was now the only person who could make him smile.

"Hey," he said suddenly. "I just had this crazy idea."

Hermione glanced at him curiously. "Oh yeah? And what idea would that be?"

"Have dinner with _me_ tonight." Draco was surprised by his own idea. He hadn't even known he'd _had_ the idea until he'd said it.

"Dinner with _you_?" Hermione said slowly.

"Yeah. I mean, you were saying that things are kind of weird between you and your friends right now. So don't you think perhaps the Christmas Eve feast will be kind of awkward for you tonight?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. "I hadn't thought of that…"

"So it's settled, then?" Draco said. "Dinner in the common room, just you and me – awkward-free?"

Hermione appeared to be considering it, but finally shook her head and said, "It's a really nice offer, but…everyone's expecting me, and if I don't show up…"

"No," Draco said quickly, "it's fine, really. It was just a random idea that popped into my head, anyway."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said with a frown. "It's just -"

"Granger, it's okay."

Hermione stared down at the ground as they continued walking. "Thank you for the offer, though," she said softly. "It was very nice of you."

"Yeah, well…you know me," Draco quipped, "I'm always doing nice things."

Hermione laughed. Draco smiled at the sound. She had such a nice laugh – very melodic and sincere. For a brief moment, Draco found himself incredibly jealous of Hermione's friends – that they got to hear that laugh every day. Jealous that they got to see that smile of hers directed at _them_. Slowly, Draco was beginning to see what it was like to be friends with Hermione Granger, and more and more he was finding that he was enjoying it.

"Hermione!" a voice called out suddenly from behind them.

Both Draco and Hermione spun around to see Luna jogging to catch up with them. "Hermione," she said as she approached them, "you're leaving already?"

"Uh…" Hermione glanced up at Draco.

"I've got some things I need to do," Draco said. "I'll see you later, Granger."

Hermione nodded slightly and stared at him as he turned around.

Silently berating himself, Draco continued on his trek, all the while sensing Hermione's gaze following him. But when he turned back a few moments later…she was gone.

* * *

**_Later that evening…_**

By the time Draco had returned to the common room later that day, Hermione was not there – but she _had _been at some point, judging from the fact that a copy of _A Christmas_ _Carol_ had been neatly placed on the table, along with a note that said, _Read this if you get a chance. I think you might like it. –Granger. _ Draco had smirked at the fact that she signed the note with her last name. Reluctantly, he had picked the book up from the table and examined it. It wasn't a very big book. If he tried, he could probably finish by the end of the evening.

So that's what he did for the rest of the evening – he threw himself down onto his bed and read. He hated to admit it, but the book was very good. And even more so, he hated to admit that the main character, Ebenezer Scrooge, reminded him so much of not only himself, but his father as well. Mostly, though, he hated the fact that Hermione had seen the similarities – probably the reason she was so anxious for him to read it. But at the moment, Draco was too engrossed in the book to be concerned about that.

He was _so_ engrossed in the book, as a matter of fact, that he hadn't even noticed when Hermione had returned home from the Christmas feast. At one point, he'd heard a noise coming from the common room, but he didn't bother to go out to greet her. He had already gone back to feeling awkward around her. He had practically asked her out on a date earlier, and she had turned him down. And Draco was not used to rejection. Usually, if he asked a girl to have dinner with him, she would squeal with delight and possibly faint. But Hermione was different – which is probably why Draco was so hurt by the fact she had turned him down. She was a one-of-a-kind girl, whose heart belonged to someone else. Someone who couldn't even see just how special she was…

Draco's mind began to wander the closer he got to the end of the book. By the time Ebenezer Scrooge was being visited by the Ghost of Christmas Future, he realized his eyes were becoming out of focus. He set the book onto his lap, rubbed his eyes and yawned. Suddenly, he realized he was _tired_, too.

He set the book onto his nightstand and got up off his bed to stretch. He was considering extinguishing all of the lights in his room and going to bed, when he heard a soft knock on his door. Curious as to why anyone would be knocking on his bedroom door, he walked over to it and opened it.

Hermione stood on the other side, clad in pajamas and a robe, looking somewhat sheepish. "Hi," she said in a small voice.

"Hey," Draco responded. He was surprised to notice how soft his voice was when he spoke.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"What? Oh, no," Draco said quickly. "I was just reading. I wasn't even aware it was this late."

Hermione's face lit up. "Reading _A Christmas Carol_?"

Draco nodded.

"And? What do you think?"

"It's okay," Draco said, not wanting to tell her how much he was _really_ enjoying it. "It's practically autobiographical."

Hermione giggled. "You're too hard on yourself," she said.

"Yeah, well…" Draco's voice trailed off. For a moment, neither of them said a word, until Draco finally said, "So what brings you to my bedroom in the middle of the night?"

"Oh, uh…" Hermione began to blush. "Well…I couldn't sleep."

"Oh." Draco studied her. She looked shy and perhaps a bit embarrassed. But on top of that, she also appeared very tense. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded and smiled. But it wasn't the same sincere smile he'd seen earlier that day. This one seemed more forced.

"Here," Draco said, stepping aside. "Why don't you come in?"

Hermione hesitated. "Are you sure? I mean, our rules -"

"To hell with our rules," Draco said. "Come in."

"Thanks," Hermione said, taking a step into the bedroom. She stopped and glanced around. "So this is the infamous Malfoy bedroom? I've heard a lot of stories about this place."

It was Draco's turn to blush. He cleared his throat and said, "Yeah. So anyway…what's troubling you?"

Hermione shrugged. She folded her arms tightly across her chest. "Nothing's troubling me. I just couldn't sleep. I just…I didn't want to be alone right now."

Draco narrowed his eyes as he watched her. Normally, Hermione appeared very cool, collected and confident. But at the moment, there was a definite change in her. She seemed distant, apprehensive, and…_scared_ even. Suddenly, it dawned on him what might be bothering her.

"Granger, you're not actually worrying about what Trelawney said earlier, are you?"

"Of course not!" Hermione snapped. But instead of looking furious at his accusation, she instead looked a bit fearful.

He couldn't help but be amused by all of this. Hermione had been so adamant in their third year, about how Trelawney was such a phony – yet now, she was buying into the woman's charade. The old Draco from the beginning of the year would have seized this opportunity to taunt Hermione, but that Draco was in the past. Now, he found that even though it amused him, it concerned him as well.

Sitting down on his bed, he patted the spot next to him with his hand and said, "Here, take a seat."

Hermione glanced at his bed tentatively before sitting down beside him. Draco figured she had probably never been on a boy's bed before. Well, besides a bed belonging to either Harry or Ron, because they didn't count. And she probably never thought she'd find herself sitting on _Draco Malfoy's_ bed.

"Granger," he said, "you don't have to pretend that you weren't a little unnerved by what Trelawney said. Hell, I would probably feel a little uneasy about it too, if she'd said the same thing to me."

"Really?" Hermione said. "I mean, I'm not really worried that it's going to come true, it's just…I don't know. It's just made me think, is all."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Think about what?"

"About life," Hermione replied. "About death. How each and every day could be our last, and we just don't know. I guess it just scares me a little to think about it."

"Then don't think about it," Draco said simply. "Especially when you go to bed. Thoughts about death are enough to keep anyone up at night."

"I guess," Hermione mumbled. She was staring down at her hands, which, Draco noticed, were shaking slightly.

He couldn't stand to see her like this. He was so used to seeing her happy and carefree that her uneasiness was making _him_ feel uneasy. Quickly, he racked his brain, trying to think of a way to make her feel better. He knew he probably wouldn't be able to talk any sense to her, so the only other option he could think of was something he didn't really want to do. However, he knew it had to be done.

He got up off the bed and walked over to his bureau. He opened up the top drawer, reached in and pulled out a box, wrapped neatly in Christmas paper. Hermione's gaze followed him as he walked back to her and held the box out.

"Here," he said as she reached out and took it. "I was going to wait and give you this tomorrow, but…well, I think maybe you should have it tonight."

Hermione stared down at the box with wide eyes. "What is this?"

"You have to open it up to find out," Draco replied, sitting back down next to her.

Her shaking hands reached up and gently removed the ribbon. Draco smiled as he noticed that once again, she was blushing.

"You really shouldn't have," she said as she began peeling away the wrapping. "I didn't know we were exchanging gifts…"

Draco shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Just open it already."

As soon as she had taken all of the wrapping paper off, she took a moment to neatly fold the paper up and place it beside her. Draco rolled his eyes impatiently.

He was nervous about her opening up the box. He wasn't exactly sure why he'd gotten her a present – the idea had just popped into his head a couple of weeks before, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time. It still did seem like a good idea, but he was scared at what her reaction would be. After all, it probably wasn't every day she received a gift from an adversary.

So he watched her carefully as she opened up the box, then as she rifled through the tissue paper that rested at the top, hoping to be able to read her expression. So far, all he could really see was curiosity.

Slowly, she reached into the box and pulled out what was inside. When she had it in her hands, she said, "It's a box." Then, as she examined it closer, she said, "It's…a very _beautiful_ box."

She wasn't lying. The box was made from the finest wood, stained a dark brown, and contained many intricate carvings of different flowers all over it. She grinned as she ran her finger over each and every carving. "This is gorgeous," she mumbled.

"Open it up," Draco said softly.

She held the box up closer to her face. When she found the small latch on the front, she lifted the top up, and suddenly, soft music filled the air.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, as one hand flew to her mouth.

"It's a music box," Draco said with a grin. "See? There's even a little ballerina."

Sure enough, when the box opened up, it revealed a tiny stage, on which a tiny ballerina danced around. Unlike a muggle music box, where the ballerina was just a cheap plastic figurine that just spun around endlessly, this music box contained an enchanted figurine that moved back and forth on the stage, performing even the most complex of ballet moves.

He looked up to see Hermione's expression, only to see her eyes filling up with tears.

"Th-that's…that's the song my mother used to sing to me every night," she sputtered.

"I know," Draco said. "You were humming it in front of me. Remember?"

Hermione nodded. "How did you…I mean, how -"

"I owled your mother," Draco replied, without her even having to ask the question first. "I asked her if she could please tell me the name of the song she used to sing to you every night, to get you to go to sleep. She owled back, more than pleased to tell me what the song was. So from there, I went to Bagatelles and special ordered the box. I asked that they make sure to find the right song and program it in. I wasn't sure if you were a fan of ballet, but the owner insisted that it's traditional to have a ballerina in there, so…I went with it. I just picked it up this morning."

"That's what was in the box you were holding," Hermione whispered, reaching her hand up to quickly wipe away the tears that had started to flow.

Draco nodded. "Yeah. So, that's why I didn't tell you what it was earlier. I _was_ going to wait and give it to you tomorrow, but…well, you're having a hard time sleeping, and I know you said that the song your mother sang to you would always make you fall asleep, so -"

He was interrupted by a sob. He looked up to see Hermione no longer trying to wipe away the tears – there were just too many to contain now.

"Granger, are you okay? I mean, if you don't like it…" His heart sank at the possibility of her disliking the gift.

"No," Hermione said quickly, sniffling. "No, Malfoy – I love it. This just…this is the nicest present I have ever received."

Draco was taken-aback. Was she just saying that to be nice, or did she really mean it? Because if she really meant it, that would mean that _his_ gift had beaten _Harry's_ gift of a journal…

"I can't tell you how much this means to me," Hermione continued in between sobs. "I mean, all the trouble you went through -"

"Well, it's not like I made it myself," Draco joked. "I had the easy job of ordering it."

Hermione shook her head. "You…you remembered me humming that song. You owled _my mother_. You spent Merlin knows how _much _on this…"

Her reaction sure did seem sincere enough. Feeling pretty satisfied with himself, he grinned and said, "So, you like it then?"

"No, Malfoy. I _love_ it. Thank you _so_ much."

"It was no big deal," he said nonchalantly. "But you're welcome, Granger."

Hermione sniffled once again and dried off the last of the tears. Gently, she closed the box and sat there for a moment with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Something on your mind, Granger?"

She glanced up at him. "Yeah, actually…" Her voice trailed off. She was getting that sheepish look again. "I was wondering if – and you can say no if you want – maybe I could…sleep in here tonight?"

Her voice was so quiet that he hadn't been sure he'd heard her correctly. But from the way she was blushing, he figured he'd heard her just fine. "Yeah," he said slowly, as her question began to sink in. "Yeah, sure. I can just sleep on the floor -"

"No, um…I-I mean, if you c-could…_sleep_…if _we_ could sleep in the bed together…I-I mean _sleep,_ not, _you know_…"

Draco would have been amused at her stuttering, if only he hadn't been so shocked over what she was asking. "Oh, right," he said quickly. "Sleep. Yeah, I can – I mean, we can -"

"It's just, I don't really want to be alone tonight…"

"Right. Sure. Yeah, I-I understand." Damn. He was starting to stutter, too.

"Thanks," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It would mean a lot to me."

Sleeping with him would mean a lot to her? What kind of parallel universe had he just stumbled into? He didn't question it, though. He didn't dare to. Anything he said could at any moment make her realize that she'd just asked him to sleep in the same bed as her, and she would rush out of the room in horror. Draco didn't want that. No, he didn't want her sleeping alone tonight just as much as _she_ didn't.

"Well, um…" Draco stood up from the bed, along with Hermione, and began to pull the covers down. "Yeah, just…crawl in there. Make yourself comfortable."

Hermione gave him a relieved smile. She set her music box down on the nightstand and opened it back up. As soon as she was under the covers, Draco proceeded to get in next to her. It was amazing how, despite how odd it felt to be lying in the same bed as Hermione Granger, it also felt _so right_.

Draco muttered a spell that plunged the room into darkness for a brief moment, before the soft light of the moon began to pour in through the window.

He turned onto his side so that he was facing Hermione, who was also lying on _her_ side. She looked so beautiful with the moonlight cascading across her face that Draco was having a hard time not saying it out loud. Luckily, Hermione spoke before he was able to get any words out.

"Thank you, Draco. For everything."

He blinked at the sound of his first name on her lips. He was amazed how wonderful his name sounded when she spoke it.

Despite the shock that they were apparently now on a first-name basis, he managed to reply, "You're welcome…Hermione."

She smiled when he said her name. Perhaps she was thinking the same thing _he_ was thinking when she'd said _his_ name. It was hard to tell, but really – it was the last thing on his mind, as a split second later, she leaned over and kissed him.

He was surprised, to say the least, but the shock quickly wore off.

It was a completely different kiss from the first one they'd shared. While the other one had been passionate and frantic, this one was soft and sweet…firm, yet gentle. It lasted only a few brief seconds before she pulled away.

When he finally opened his eyes, he found her smiling at him. From what he could see, there was no trace of regret in her features. Draco smiled back.

"Goodnight," she said softly as she shifted so that she was lying on her opposite side, her back facing him.

"Goodnight," he managed to sputter. He stared at the back of her head, his heart racing. She had just kissed him. Hermione Granger had just _kissed_ him. Willingly. He hadn't made any sort of first move – it had been all her.

It was a good thing she could no longer see him, because he was grinning like an idiot. And he had to resist the urge to pull her back for another kiss. No, he was going to have to take things slow with her. There was a good chance she'd wake up in the morning regretting having kissed him, anyway. Or, perhaps the kiss wasn't meant to be romantic, anyway, rather as more of a token of her appreciation…

"Malfoy?" she said suddenly in a drowsy voice.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for _what_?" Sorry for the kiss? She certainly did not need to apologize for _that_.

"I'm sorry," she said, in a voice so soft he could barely hear her, "that you gave me such a wonderful gift, but I didn't give _you_ anything."

Draco chuckled at that. "Oh, Granger," he said. "You have no idea. You just gave me everything I wanted."

She did not respond to that. Draco wasn't sure if it was because she was trying to figure out what he'd meant by it, or if it was because she had fallen asleep. He figured, judging from the steady rhythm of her breathing, that it was the latter. _It's probably just as well_, Draco thought to himself. He wasn't sure he was ready for her to know what he'd meant by that, anyway.

He continued to stare at her in the moonlight. He would have been content watching her sleep all night, but he could feel his eyelids becoming heavy, threatening to close on him. He did not try to fight them. The sooner he went to sleep, the sooner Christmas morning would come. He had a good feeling about the next day – if only because he would be waking up next to Hermione Granger.

As the soft sound of the music box wafted through the air, Draco closed his eyes and slipped into what would be the last peaceful sleep he would be having for a very long time.

* * *


	13. Void

**Author's Note: **Well, it's almost been a whole month since I last updated, and I apologize for that. I have a ton of excuses: laziness, lack of ambition, forgetfullness, writer's block, AND alien abduction. Also, sickness. However, the sickness is very new (I just became sick earlier this week), but I brought it up to warn you all that I wrote a lot of this WHILST being sick (mostly all tonight), so that is why it is PAINFULLY short (especially compared to all of my other chapters) and lacking in plot. I imagine that you all prefer to read my flashback chapters (and I prefer writing them) to my present-day ones, which might be good in this case, because this short chapter is present day (meaning next chapter will be flashback, and probably long). But look at me, I'm going on and on and boring anyone who happens to read my author's notes. ANYWAY, I just wanted to post this tonight - short as it is - so that you all know I haven't given up on the story. Also, I have to warn you that it might take me quite a while to update with the _next_ chapter, so if you don't see it up for a while, it's not because I've discarded the story. Okay, I'll shut up now. I talk a lot when I'm sick.

Oh, and thanks for all the reviews on my last chapter. It was my most popular chapter to date, and I have to say, it's been my most favorite chapter to write so far. :)

**Disclaimer:** Even when I'm sick, I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy. Miss Granger. We need to talk." 

Draco groaned inwardly at the sight of Professor Dumbledore sitting in his common room – looking a tad bit infuriated, no less.

"Sir," he began, but Dumbledore held up his hand to silence him.

"Did I, or did I not _specifically_ tell you to stay in your common room until tomorrow morning?"

"You did, sir, but -"

"Well then why were neither of you here when I arrived? And why did it appear as though you just returned from somewhere you were not supposed to be?"

Draco sighed. He knew it was useless to lie, but he really didn't feel like explaining the situation either. "We went to Hogsmeade, sir. Don't worry, nobody recognized us. I made sure of that. Sorry." He made sure to mumble the last word.

Dumbledore nodded slightly. To Draco's complete surprise, the old man no longer appeared to be all that miffed about the whole thing. In fact, his features had softened considerably as he said, "Very well. I am disappointed that you disobeyed my orders, but there are more important matters to discuss right now."

He turned is attention to Hermione and smiled. "I have informed the staff of your situation. Most of the professors are perplexed, to say the least, but they seem very eager to meet you."

Hermione smiled at that.

"Now, I'm not sure if Mr. Malfoy here has informed you or not, but before your arrival, Professor McGonagall and I were in the process of appointing a new student as Head Girl."

Draco averted his gaze to the floor. With all that had happened in the past couple of days, he had completely forgotten about the search for the new Head Girl. He was a bit disappointed to find out the search was still on.

"Well," Dumbledore continued, "Professor McGonagall and I discussed it at great length, and in the end we both agreed that – if you're interested, that is – _you_ could take over the role as Head Girl for the remainder of your time here."

Draco snapped his head up and stared in disbelief at the old man in front of him. Was he _insane_? It was one thing to appoint another student as Head Girl, but it was quite another to appoint some strange girl from another world – someone whom nobody even knew anything about.

"Sir," he interjected, "I don't think that -"

"I'd love to be Head Girl!" Hermione exclaimed.

Dumbledore seemed elated by her response. "I assume you were the Head Girl in your world, then?"

"Of course," Hermione said, beaming.

"Splendid." Dumbledore turned to Draco. "This will not be a problem, will it Mr. Malfoy?"

He wanted to say yes – that it would be a huge, monumental problem. But would it do any good? They had already made the decision. There was nothing else he could do but lie.

"No, sir," he mumbled.

"Very well, then!" Dumbledore said, getting up from the chair. To Hermione he said, "I will come get you tomorrow morning and we will go together to the Great Hall, where I will proceed to explain everything to the students."

Hermione nodded her head. A nervous expression adorned her features as she glanced over at Draco. He held her gaze for a brief moment before looking away.

He began to pace the room as Dumbledore said his parting words, barely listening to what the old man was saying. He watched as Dumbledore left, and he watched as Hermione's facial expression became more relaxed.

When they were alone in the room at last, she glanced over at him once more and asked, "So what exactly are my duties as Head Girl?"

Draco couldn't help it; he snorted at the question. "You weren't really the Head Girl in your world, were you?"

"Hell, no," Hermione replied with a giggle. "Hardly."

Draco smirked. "Tsk-tsk, Granger. You just lied to the Headmaster – and with such skill and total lack of morality."

Hermione mirrored his smirk and said, "Oh please. Like _you've_ never lied to the Headmaster?"

"Oh, _I've_ lied to him. I've lied to him a _lot_. But the _real_ Hermione Granger – she never would have lied to the old man. Not unless it was for the greater good…like it would help save the world, or something ridiculous like that."

Hermione frowned. "Yeah, well…there are probably a lot of things the _real_ Hermione never would have done that _I've_ done."

Draco couldn't help but notice the way she said, _"the _real_ Hermione_", as if the words left a bad taste in her mouth.

"I'm sure you're right," Draco said.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "You say that as if you know it for a fact."

"How _would_ I know that for a fact, Granger? I don't know _you_ at all."

"That's right, Malfoy, you _don't_. And I can see that you really don't _care_ to."

"_Should_ I? After all, you're just some clone of a girl I detested. Why should I think you're even worth knowing?"

He could see the muscles of her jaw contracting, as if she were clenching her teeth together. "You detested her, huh? I find that to be very interesting."

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

"Why should you care about anything that I have to say?" She folded her arms across her chest and made a slight _humph_ sound. It was so similar to the way the _real _Hermione would have reacted when she was annoyed. But Draco refused to let that fact soften him at all.

"I _don't_ care, Granger. Look, we may be stuck with each other for a while, but that does not mean that we have to be friends. In fact, I'd prefer it if we _weren't_ friends."

"Fine by me," Hermione grumbled. She picked up her shopping bags from the floor. "I'm going to go take a nap."

"Good idea," Draco grumbled in response.

Hermione pursed her lips and brushed past him as she headed for the bedroom. But before she exited the common room, she stopped and turned around.

"I know you don't like me," she said, "and that's okay, I understand. I'm not _expecting_ you to like me. I also know that you don't want me here, and I understand that, too. But I _am_ here, and the sooner you begin to accept that, the sooner maybe you'll stop hating me."

"I don't -" Draco began, but he stopped himself. He was going to tell her that he didn't hate her. _But would it have been the truth?_

"You do." Hermione shrugged as she lowered her eyes to the floor. "But then, why wouldn't you? I mean, you hated _her_, too."

As she spoke the last sentence, she lifted her gaze up from the floor and stared into his eyes with a strange look he couldn't quite place. But before he could try to read anything into it, she broke her gaze away as she turned around and headed out of the room.

Draco let out a breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding. So this new Hermione was very perceptive. Either that or Draco was just very obvious in his dislike for her.

He ran a hand through his hair as he plopped down on the couch. He wasn't even sure if he disliked her, though. He was _wary_ of her. He didn't _trust_ her. And he hated the way she had looked the first night she arrived – like a Slytherin trollop. But this morning, when he saw her with her hair all frizzy, and her body casually clothed…he saw Hermione. The _real_ Hermione. The only Hermione who would ever really matter. That vision had nearly destroyed him. Because with the straight hair and the skimpy clothes, he could just tell himself that she was a mere look-alike. But with her other appearance, he knew it was very possible that he could let his guard down and let himself believe it was really her. Just like her friends were doing.

He groaned when he thought of her friends, because it reminded him that tomorrow the entire school would find out about her. How would they react? Surely, they wouldn't all take it as surprisingly well as Ginny. He imagined some of the students would be weirded out. Others would be mildly intrigued. And the Slytherins…well, his fellow housemates would most likely be thrilled, as he was sure a few of them, at least, missed tormenting Hermione Granger. And mostly likely, those few would waste no time in resuming the torment. And of course Draco, being the Head Boy, would be expected to put a stop to the shenanigans, once again making all of the Slytherins question his loyalty. He hated this. And this new girl was right – he hated _her_. He hated her for everything her arrival was going to put him through. And he hated her for who she was so close to being, but _wasn't_.

Suddenly, a nap was sounding nice to him too. If only he could fall asleep and wake up when the school year was over – or better yet, if he just never woke up at all.

He knew he should have scolded himself for having such negative thoughts, but he was too tired – physically and emotionally – to care _what_ he thought.

Instead of berating himself, he puffed up a throw pillow and stretched out the length of the couch, taking a deep breath. He knew sleeping would make tomorrow come even sooner. But maybe that's what he wanted - to get it over with. To get the whole rest of the year over with and move on with his life. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself after graduation, post-Hogwarts. But he saw nothing. Nothing but a dark, empty void. The same void that currently occupied his soul, slowly sucking in and evaporating every bit of life still left inside him. The void that was left by the death of Hermione Granger.

The all-consuming darkness he saw, mixed with weariness, was quick to take over. Before he drifted off to sleep several moments later, he could have sworn he heard the soft melodic sound of Hermione's music box floating through the air, and the beautiful sound of her voice singing him to sleep.

* * *


	14. Last Christmas

**Author's Note:** Well, it's about time I updated, eh? Haha. Okay, brace yourselves, dear readers – this is my longest chapter yet, and also the hardest one for me to write. When I started this story months ago, I knew what the premise was, and I knew what I wanted to have happen (i.e. Hermione getting killed). However, back then I didn't even think I would end up writing the whole story, so I didn't worry about how I was going to kill her off (I know – that sounds horrible, lol). I'm not sure if I'm completely satisfied with the way I wrote it, but I honestly I think it's the best I could do. It's been a month since my last update, and I apologize profusely for that. But I thank all of my readers and reviewers for being patient (and I also want to inform one of my reviewers that they do not have to worry about jinxing the story. If I don't update for a while, it's just cuz I'm hella lazy:P). Anyway, I hope this chapter is satisfactory to you guys. If it's not, I apologize profusely for that too! 

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, even the ones I ashamedly kill off. :P

* * *

_**December 25th**_

Whenever Draco Malfoy woke up with his arms wrapped around a girl, it always meant one thing and one thing only: that he'd gotten lucky the night before.

Which was precisely the reason why he immediately began to panic when he opened his eyes on Christmas morning to find that the girl he was holding in his arms was Hermione Granger.

The thoughts all flooded into his head at once as he sat up. What had they done? Had there been drinking involved? Was she going to be pissed when she woke up and found herself in Draco Malfoy's bed? And oh, Merlin, what if they'd-

"Good morning," a pleasant voice spoke up next to him.

Draco looked down at Hermione, who was looking up at him with sparkling brown eyes and a warm smile. She had the look of sleep on her face, as though she'd just woken from a glorious dream. And somehow, even with her unruly hair strewn across her pillow and the sleepy look in her eyes, she was positively breathtaking.

"Morning," he mumbled, quickly looking away.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "You look…worried about something."

He glanced back down at her, amazed that the realization of their situation had not sunk in for her yet.

"Well, it's not every day I wake up next to the Head Girl, you know."

And _there_ was the look – the look of a girl who was just starting to realize she had just woken up in a bed, next to a Slytherin. Surprisingly, though, that's as far as the look went. She did not appear disgusted, traumatized, confused or angry. In fact, she looked mildly _amused_.

"Wait," she said, "you don't think that we -" Suddenly, she began to giggle. "You think something happened between us! Don't you remember last night?"

Of course Draco remembered last night. She had come to his room feeling a bit nervous, and he had calmed her down by giving her the present he'd bought for her. And then they'd fallen asleep – nothing more. He was silly to have thought anything else had happened.

"Sure, I remember last night. I just – well, I just woke up and my brain hasn't started working yet. I had a momentary lapse of memory is all."

Hermione smiled and sat up next to him. "Oh. Well you looked absolutely terrified."

"No I didn't," Draco disagreed, shaking his head.

"You did!" Hermione exclaimed with a chuckle. "You really did. Like the possibility that something had happened between us scared you half to death." Her smile slowly faded as she stared down at her hands.

"No," Draco assured her. "I wasn't scared. At least not for the reason you're probably thinking."

"Oh yeah? What reason do you think I'm thinking?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. You're probably thinking I was scared because…because I believed I might have had intimate relations with a mudblood." He spoke the last word softly and with a flinch.

"Well," Hermione said. "Then I guess you were right – that _was_ what I was thinking." She gave him a half smile.

Draco reached over and with one finger lifted her chin up so that she was looking him directly in the eye. "That's not what scared me," he assured her. "I just…I was worried for a second that…that I might have done something inappropriate last night, and…I was scared for a second that maybe I'd done something to hurt you – something that we both would have regretted."

Hermione blinked and took hold of the hand that was still placed under her chin. "Well you didn't do anything to hurt me last night. In fact, you helped me. A lot. And I certainly don't regret that." With a grin, she stood up from the bed and grabbed her music box from the nightstand.

"Merry Christmas, Draco."

"Merry Christmas…Hermione." Draco was beginning to like the sound of her name rolling off his tongue.

She smiled and turned to go, but stopped at the door and turned around. "Hey, what are you doing today?"

Draco thought about it for a second. "Well, it's Christmas. I thought maybe I would sleep all day and if the mood hits me, I might try eating a meal or two."

"How about dinner?" she blurted out.

"Dinner?" Draco asked curiously.

"Yes. Dinner. With me." She avoided making eye contact with him, as if she were nervous. "I mean, I know I turned you down last night, and if you don't want to have dinner with me _tonight_, I completely understand. It's just that I ended up spending the whole Christmas Eve feast last night thinking about how I would have rather been having dinner with _you_ instead, and then earlier this morning when I was awake and you were still asleep, I was thinking about how I would love to spend Christmas evening with you. I mean, you were so sweet yesterday to invite me to have dinner with you, and I felt like a complete git -"

"Granger," Draco cut in, chuckling. He had never seen the girl talk so much at once before without taking a single breath. "If you're asking me to have dinner with you, the answer is yes."

Hermione's facial expression went from apprehensive to relieved in the matter of a split second. "Really?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he replied. "I'll make the arrangements."

"No," she said. "Let _me_ take care of everything. After all, _I_ asked _you_ to dinner, not vice versa."

"Yes, but _I_ asked _you first_, last night. And even though you declined my offer, it should still be my responsibility."

"But you gave me this beautiful Christmas present," Hermione said, holding up her music box, "and I didn't get you anything. The least I can do is take care of dinner."

"Granger, I don't want to argue about this," Draco said with mock annoyance. "You go off and play with your little friends this morning, and later you come back here and be my dinner date. That can be your Christmas present to me. How about that?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Now go do whatever it is you do to get ready for a day with the Weasleys and Potter. You wouldn't want to keep them waiting. Not on _Christmas_."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll see you later."

She was halfway out the door when Draco said, "Hey, Granger?"

"Yeah?" she said, turning around to face him.

"Are you feeling better this morning? About…well, _you know_…the whole Trelawney thing?"

Her smile faltered a bit. "Yeah, I am. In fact, I feel a bit foolish for being so weirded out by it."

"You don't have to feel foolish," Draco said, his voice taking a serious tone. He stood up from the bed and walked over to her. "And you don't have to be worried, either. There's no way in hell I would ever let anything happen to you."

Hermione stared up at him with a look of appreciation. "I believe you," she whispered. With a smile, she turned around and walked out the door.

* * *

"Dobby refuses to cook for Draco Malfoy! Draco Malfoy is no friend to Harry Potter, so he is no friend to Dobby either." 

Draco rolled his eyes at the house elf's stubbornness. While his loyalty to Potter - who was not even his master - was admirable, at the moment it wasn't very useful for _Draco_. Of course, he couldn't blame the elf for not wanting to help a Malfoy – he'd served the Malfoy family years ago and was treated quite poorly by Lucius. But still, he was surprised that house elves held grudges for that long.

"Look," he said, following the elf around the school's kitchen, where he'd gone soon after Hermione had gone into the bathroom to take a shower. He'd wanted their dinner that night to be special, and it _wouldn't_ be if _he_ cooked, seeing as though he had never had to cook for himself a day in his whole life. "I'm not just asking for me. Hermione Granger is going to be there. You'd be cooking for her, too. She's a friend to Harry Potter – a very _good_ one."

Dobby stopped at the sound of Hermione's name. "Dobby likes Hermione Granger."

"Well…so does Draco," Draco said, not even realizing he was starting to speak like a house elf himself. "Hermione Granger is a special girl, and she deserves a special dinner, don't you agree? Normally, I wouldn't even ask you to do this, but I'm sure Hermione would love it if you did this for us." He knew that was only half true – while Hermione did like Dobby and other assorted house elves, she also hated the idea of forcing them to wait on humans hand and foot.

For good measure, he quickly added, "_Harry Potter_ would love it if you did this for us."

The house elf stood before him, lost in thought – as if he was trying to decide whether or not Draco was for real. Finally, he said, "Draco Malfoy is _sure_ Harry Potter would approve?"

"Oh, I'm sure. Harry Potter wants Hermione Granger to be happy."

"Then Dobby does this," the house elf said. "Dobby make dinner for Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy."

"Great," Draco said, relieved. He patted the house elf on the shoulder. "Thanks, Dobby. You're a lifesaver."

Dobby mumbled something under his breath, but Draco could not hear it on account of the fact he was already exiting the kitchen.

Feeling pleased with himself, Draco headed back to his common room, whistling the whole way. The day before, he had almost started to believe that maybe he _was_ an Ebenezer Scrooge. But he was already enjoying this Christmas, even though it had only begun just a few hours ago, and he felt as though nothing could destroy the good mood he was in.

That is, until he arrived back to the common room.

The portrait smirked as soon as it caught sight of Draco, which instantly made him worry. It was obvious to anyone that the portrait was not one of Draco's biggest fans, and it seemed to take great pleasure in Draco's misfortunes.

"Why are_ you_ so happy?" he snapped to the knight.

"Oh, nothing," the portrait responded in a singsong voice. "It's Christmas, is all. 'Tis the season to be jolly."

Draco did not believe for one second that _Christmas_ was the real reason for the knight's giddiness, and the moment the portrait hole opened up and he stepped inside, his disbelief was validated.

"Bloody hell," he muttered as he entered the common room, which was currently being occupied by two Weasleys, one Boy Wonder, one Loony Lovegood, and Granger.

"Malfoy!" Hermione greeted him in a cheery voice.

"Granger!" Draco responded with mock enthusiasm. He ignored the death glares coming from Harry and Ron. "I didn't know you had…_guests_. I'll take off."

He turned around to leave, but Hermione stopped him.

"No, you don't have to leave," she said. "We were just finishing up here, anyway. In fact, we were all about to leave. We're going down to Hogsmeade for a bit."

"Why don't you come with us?" Ginny suggested, with a hint of a smirk on her face.

Everyone glanced at Ginny in shock – mostly Harry, who looked absolutely appalled at the idea.

"That's a wonderful idea!" Hermione exclaimed, turning to Draco. "Why don't you join us? The more the merrier."

Ron snorted.

"Hermione," Harry began to protest.

But Hermione dismissed him with a simple wave of her hand and continued to stare at Draco with a hopeful look.

The thought of spending Christmas day with Granger's friends was enough to make Draco want to _Avada Kedavra_ himself right there on the spot. On the other hand, the thought of spending Christmas day with Granger – even _with_ her friends – more than made up for it. So before he had time to think it over and decide it was a bad idea, he said, "Sure, sounds like fun."

Ron narrowed his eyes at Draco. Harry grumbled something unintelligible. Ginny gave a satisfactory grin. Luna stared off into space. Hermione just smiled warmly at him and said, "Most excellent."

* * *

The Three Broomsticks opened its doors on Christmas day at noon exactly – as did most of the shops and eateries in Hogsmeade - as a service to people who either did not celebrate the holiday, or who got terribly bored after opening presents in the morning. Draco figured this was a good thing, because otherwise Hermione and her friends would all still be hanging out in the common room, causing Draco to find somewhere else to spend his time – _alone_ - until dinner. 

When they entered the pub, Hermione turned to her friends and said, "You guys order the drinks. Malfoy and I will go find a table."

Draco raised his eyebrows at her, while everyone else looked at her as if she'd gone mad. Since when did Hermione Granger go anywhere alone with Draco Malfoy? He couldn't help but smirk at how shocked they all seemed.

Grabbing his arm, Hermione began leading him over to the table farthest away from the bar. "So how is your Christmas so far?"

"It's just wonderful," he replied dryly. "It's been a day full of sugar plums and joy."

Hermione frowned at him as they took a seat at the table. "I didn't like the idea of you being alone today."

"Really? And why is that?"

She shrugged. "No one should be alone on Christmas. And besides -" She glanced over her shoulder, making sure the rest of the gang was still out of earshot. "It's more fun hanging out with you than with _them_."

Draco chuckled. That was like music to his ears. "Why? What happened?"

"Nothing, really. Ginny's still being a _you-know-what_ to me. Harry and Ron are still acting kind of weird around me. The only one I don't feel uncomfortable around at all is Luna, but she's in her own little world most of the time. So…I guess in a way, you could say I'm feeling a bit lonely myself today. Which is why I'm glad you decided to join us."

"Well then I'm glad I did, too," Draco said. A smile began to play at his lips, but immediately vanished as soon as he saw the rest of Hermione's friends coming to join them.

"It sure is a beautiful day out, isn't it?" Ginny asked, taking a seat as far away from Hermione as possible.

But nobody was really interested in talking about the weather – particularly Harry, who was looking quite grumpy at the moment. So they sat in complete, uncomfortable silence for what seemed to Draco like an eternity. Already, he regretted having joined them. His presence sure wasn't helping Hermione mend fences with her best friends.

"I'm going to head out," he spoke up suddenly, pushing his chair back away from the table. "I've got…some things to do."

"No," Hermione protested, reaching out and grabbing his hand. "Please – stay."

"What the hell is wrong with you, Hermione?" Harry snapped. "Let the stupid git leave if he wants to."

Hermione glared at Harry. "Harry, don't be rude."

"Rude!" Harry spat. "You're calling _me_ rude? You're sitting next to _Draco Malfoy_, Hermione. If you want to talk about rude, avert your attention to _him_."

"He has done _nothing_ wrong today, Harry. In fact, he's been a perfect gentleman. I'd say _you're_ the _stupid git_ here."

Harry's jaw dropped, along with everyone else's – including Draco's.

"Why are you defending him, Hermione?" asked Harry. His cheeks had turned a deep shade of red from what Draco could only guess was anger.

"Why are you getting so worked up about it?" Ginny said, turning to face Harry. "Hermione's right – Malfoy has done nothing wrong. Why are you overreacting?"

"I'm not overreacting!" Harry exclaimed. "We all know what Malfoy is capable of. We all know how evil he is."

"Hey," Draco said defensively. He didn't appreciate being called _evil_ – no matter how much it _used_ to be true.

Harry ignored him. "Yet Hermione is pleading with him not to leave. And she has his hand on his, and he's not so much as flinching at the fact he's being touched by a mudblood." He narrowed his eyes at Hermione and Draco. "What's going on between you two?"

"N-nothing," Hermione stammered. "Draco and I are just-"

"Oh. It's _Draco_ now, is it?" Harry shook his head in disbelief. "That's just bloody wonderful, Hermione. Fraternizing with the enemy!"

"Calm _down_, Harry," Ginny hissed. "Hermione is allowed to be friends with whomever she pleases."

"Yeah, right," Harry grumbled. "If _friends_ are all they are." He glared over at them once more.

Draco couldn't help but be amused at Potter's little outburst. It certainly had been uncalled for, so the reason for his reaction must have run a lot deeper. Perhaps the thought of Hermione being _more_ _than_ friends with Draco – or _anyone_, for that matter – was a little too much for him to handle. Perhaps Potter was a little jealous.

Apparently, that's exactly what Ginny thought. Looking positively livid, she said, "Harry Potter, you're _jealous_!"

Harry looked at her in shock. "I most certainly am not! Why in the bloody hell would I _ever_ be jealous of _Malfoy_?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ginny replied. "Maybe because Hermione has yet to let go of his hand."

Both Draco and Hermione glanced down at their joined hands. Neither one had even noticed that Hermione still had a firm grip on his hand – nobody but Ginny, that is. Quickly, they let go of each other. Hermione began blushing and looked somewhat ashamed as she directed her gaze to the floor.

"What?" Harry was saying. "I don't – why would that – I'm not -"

"You _are_, Harry," Ginny said sadly. However, she glanced over at Hermione with a look of spite. "You know what? I think I'm just going to head back to school. Suddenly, I'm not feeling so well." She pushed back her chair, turned on her heel and headed for the pub's exit.

Surprisingly, Harry made no effort to follow her. But Hermione did.

"Ginny! Wait!" she called after her. When the redhead neither turned around nor stopped, Hermione got up from the table and ran after her.

Draco shook his head and smirked. "Way to go, Potter. Way to make your girlfriend feel loved."

Harry glowered at him. "Sod off, Malfoy." And with that, he too stood up and headed for the door.

"What a lovely idea this was," Draco said sarcastically.

Ron glowered at him. "Is this why you came, Malfoy? To cause trouble?"

Draco snorted. "It doesn't look like any of you need _me_ in order to cause trouble. Besides, it's not my fault your best mate doesn't know what he wants."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means that Harry is in love with two girls, but he does not know who he loves more," Luna replied dreamily.

"_What_?" Ron said incredulously. "That's just absurd, Luna."

Draco frowned. That was exactly what he'd been hinting at, but hearing the words spoken by Luna struck a nerve. What if that were true? What if Harry Potter had been in love with Hermione Granger all along, but had just recently come to the realization? What would that mean for Ginny and Draco? And what would it mean to Hermione, who obviously was still in love with him? Draco didn't want to find out. He had to tell Hermione how he felt, and he needed to do it before Harry had a chance to reveal _his_ feelings. Quickly, he chased Harry out of the pub, followed closely by Ron and Luna.

Once Draco was outside, he stopped. Ginny and Hermione were quite a distance away from the Three Broomsticks, out of earshot, and Draco could see they were having a heated argument. He wished he could hear exactly what they were saying, but he pretty much knew what they were arguing about, so it didn't really matter.

He watched as Harry made his way over to the girls. He said something to Ginny and then pulled her in for a hug, but she quickly pushed him away.

"Oh boy," Ron muttered behind him. "Looks like Gin is mad at Harry. I'd better go have a talk with her. She holds grudges for the longest time."

"Yeah, well talk her out of being angry at Granger, while you're at it," Draco said, but if Ron heard him, he didn't acknowledge it.

"You're in love with Hermione," Luna said in a singsong voice. "And Hermione is in love with Harry, who is in love with both Ginny and Hermione. This could get awfully complicated." She shrugged and followed Ron.

Great – "Looney" Lovegood was perceptive enough to pick up on Draco's feelings for Hermione, which meant that the feelings she had picked up from Harry must really be there. _Wonderful_, Draco thought. All it would take was a confession of feelings from Harry, and Hermione would be his forever. There was no way Draco was about to let that happen. So he followed Ron and Luna over to Harry, Ginny and Hermione. He had not been looking forward to doing this, but if anyone was going to confess feelings, _he_ was going to have to do it first, if he wanted to stand any sort of chance at winning her heart at all.

"Granger," he called over to her as he approached.

She looked over at him with a frown – but one he knew was not directed at _him_. Whatever Ginny had said to her had obviously really upset her.

"Can I talk to you?" he continued. "Alone?"

Hermione nodded and took a step toward him, but quickly Harry threw himself between them, blocking her from getting any closer to Draco.

"Move it, Potter," Draco demanded.

"Make me," Harry growled. For such a juvenile response, he sounded dead serious.

"Fine." Draco had played nice all day, out of respect for Hermione, but enough was enough. So, he reached out, grabbed a hold of Harry's shirt and shoved him aside.

Hermione glanced at him disapprovingly. "Malfoy, don't."

But it wasn't Draco she should have been scolding, for only a few seconds later, Harry came at him with his fist, connecting it firmly with his jaw.

"Harry!" Hermione screeched, reaching out to restrain him, but he brushed her off.

"Sonofabitch!" Draco snarled, spitting out a small bit of blood. Without thinking, he swung at Harry, hitting him in pretty much the same spot Harry had hit _him._

From there, it escalated into a full-blown fistfight, complete with Ron cheering them on – or, more accurately, cheering _Harry_ on. Meanwhile, Ginny, Hermione and Luna looked on in horror, with Ginny occasionally yelling out for Harry to stop. But neither boy paid any attention to anyone else. All they really cared about was wasting each other. And whoever won would receive a chance at Hermione's heart.

But everyone was too caught up in the moment to notice anything else. Draco was too intent on beating Potter senseless to see it happening. But it all happened so quickly; nobody would have had any time to react, even if they had _known_ it was happening. One moment, Draco and Harry were fighting, and then the next moment Hermione was screaming, "Draco!" And not because she wanted the fighting to stop.

Detecting the unbridled fear in her voice, Draco instinctively let go of his hold on Harry and spun around to see Hermione, now a few feet away from the group, being restrained by a large, dark, hooded figure – his arm held firmly around her neck as she tried desperately to pry it off.

"Hermione!" Draco, Harry and Ron all cried simultaneously.

Draco tried to lunge forward, but quickly realized that he couldn't move. "What the hell," he muttered, glancing down at his feet, which appeared to be stuck to the ground. He glanced up at everyone else, who seemed to be experiencing the same problem.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "I can't move!"

The ominous figure chuckled. "You're not alone, young man. None of your friends can move, either. I've made sure of that."

The man's voice was deep and raspy. Draco listened carefully, hoping to recognize it – but he didn't. And he certainly could not see the man's face, as it was hidden well inside his hood.

Simultaneously, Harry and Draco reached into their back pockets to retrieve their wands, but the hooded man was too quick for them. "_Expelliarmus_!" he bellowed, and every single one of their wands – even Ron's, Ginny's and Luna's – flew away and landed a few yards away.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded.

The hooded figure tightened his grip on Hermione and replied, "That is of little or no importance to you at all."

"The hell it isn't," Draco hissed. "Now, let the girl go."

The man threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh. "And why would I want to do _that_, young Malfoy?"

Draco balked at the sound of his name escaping the man's lips. Who was this person, and how did he know his name? "Do I know you?"

"You've met me. Though, when you were very young; I doubt you would remember me. I am an old friend of your father's. Or at least, I _was_, until he was tragically killed last year. Such a shame."

As the man talked, Draco made eye contact with Hermione, who was still struggling – but to no avail – to escape the man's grasp. He nodded to her reassuringly, as if to say everything was going to be alright. She just stared back at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"So there I was," the man said suddenly, "just passing through, and I see this lovely group of friends spending Christmas afternoon together in a pub. It warmed my heart to see such a thing, and I thought to myself – what could I do to ruin this day for them?"

"Why would you want to do that?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Why _not_?" the man answered. "I was looking for something fun to do. And then I realized that _Harry Potter_ was part of this lovely group of friends, and I knew right then and there that I wanted to make this a Christmas he would never forget." As the man struggled to keep Hermione in his grasp, the sleeve of his robe moved up a little ways to reveal a mark Draco was all too familiar with.

"You're a Death Eater," Draco muttered.

"Very observant of you, Draco. Yes, I am a Death Eater. And I have to admit that I have lied to you all: I was not just _passing through_. I knew you were all going to be here. In fact, I've been here waiting for you all day. I was a little worried as to how I was going to pull this off, though. I mean, being able to snag this darling here," he nodded toward Hermione, "without any interference. But it was just my luck – you all managed to distract yourselves just long enough for me to do what I had to do. I should be thanking you all for helping me."

Panic began to form in the pit of Draco's stomach. The direness of the situation was beginning to set in. This was a _Death Eater_ they were dealing with - and not just _any_ Death Eater, either, but apparently, one with a mission. And somewhere in the back of Draco's mind, the words of Trelawney's prediction were beginning to surface, sending chills down his spine.

"Listen," he said slowly. "Whatever reason you have for doing this, you do not need to involve Hermione."

"Oh, isn't that sweet?" the Death Eater said. "You're trying to save this poor mudblood's life. Somewhere, your father is turning in his grave."

"Malfoy's right," Harry said. "Obviously, whatever reason you have for being here has to do with me, so then deal with _me_ – not Hermione."

The Death Eater chuckled. "You automatically assume everything has to do with _you_, don't you, Harry Potter?" He reached into his robe and pulled out an object that shone brightly in the sunlight. It took only one quick glance for Draco to figure out what it was: a large, silver dagger.

Hermione's eyes managed to widen even more at the sight, while Ron, Ginny and Luna gasped. Both Harry and Draco, however, managed to keep their cool.

"I know what you're thinking," the Death Eater continued. "You're thinking that the Dark Lord has sent me with some sort of a message, or to teach Harry Potter a lesson. But neither is the case. I'm here on my own free will. But I suppose I _am_ doing this as a service to the Dark Lord. He will no doubt be very pleased with me." With the dagger, the man lightly caressed Hermione's hair – causing Draco great agony with each stroke. Obviously, the man wanted to play with them…wanted to torture them. And he knew just how to do it – by using the one person everyone there cared about the most. Draco had to give the man credit. He certainly was no amateur.

"She's quite pretty… for a _mudblood_," the Death Eater mumbled, as if talking only to himself.

The man was lucky he had been able to use such a powerful spell on an entire group of people, gluing them to the ground, because if the spell had suddenly failed and Draco had been able to move again, he would have ripped the man to shreds with his bare hands.

"I originally thought perhaps a simple killing curse would suffice," he continued. "But then I thought, what fun is there to be had with _that_? You point the wand; you say the words, and _poof!_ They're dead. That's a bit boring, don't you think? That's why I brought my trusty friend here." He held up the dagger for everyone to see, then brought it back down and held it gingerly against Hermione's throat. "I thought it would be more interesting if you all had to watch her _suffer_ first."

Draco's breath caught in his throat. This guy wasn't seriously thinking of killing Hermione, was he? But of course he was. Death Eaters didn't play games. They didn't make idle threats. If a Death Eater said he was going to kill someone, he was going to kill someone. And Trelawney had predicted this…

_Fuck!_ This was really going to happen. For once, Trelawney's prediction was going to come true – and Draco could do nothing to stop it. But he tried – along with Harry, Ron, Ginny and Luna. They all began squirming, trying to release themselves from whatever spell the man had cast upon them, but it was no use.

"Let her go. _Please_," Draco pleaded.

The Death Eater shook his head. "Any other suggestions?"

"Take _me_ instead," Draco suggested.

"Or _me_," Harry said.

"Or _me_," Ron piped up.

"All very tempting offers," the man said, "but it has to be her."

"No, it doesn't!" Draco cried. "You don't have to do this. And you still haven't told us _why_ you're doing this."

"All in due time, young Malfoy," was his only response. He released his arm from around Hermione's neck.

Draco should have felt relieved, but he knew that gesture did not mean the man was going to let her go. He was just trying to get a better angle. And sure enough, with lightening speed, he drove the dagger deep into Hermione's abdomen before anyone really knew what had happened.

"NO - HERMIONE!" Draco screamed.

The others followed suit. Ron and Harry both called out her name about the same time that Draco did, while Ginny and Luna both began to scream and sob. Hermione, meanwhile, stood absolutely still as the Death Eater yanked out the knife, allowing blood to flow freely from the wound. A pained expression came over her shocked face as she glanced from the stab wound, to Draco – before finally collapsing to the ground.

What happened next was all a blur. At the same moment that Hermione collapsed and the Death Eater began to flee, Draco heard two voices in the distance yelling out different spells. One, obviously, was a binding spell to prevent the Death Eater from escaping – which was evident from the fact that he, too, collapsed to the ground mid-stride, his limbs now bound in chains. Another spell seemed to have been one that released everyone from the spell the Death Eater had cast. Draco didn't even realize the spell had been broken, even though he was now running as quickly as he could to Hermione's side, along with the others.

"Hermione," he gasped, falling to his knees beside her. He stared down at her, trying not to look at the large amount of blood that was coming from the wound. Gently, he caressed the top of her head. "Hermione, look at me."

With glazed eyes, Hermione obeyed. "Draco?" she said in a dazed voice. She appeared to be in shock.

"Shh, don't talk," Draco said. "You're going to be okay," he assured her, hoping she couldn't detect the doubt in his voice.

Carefully, he lifted up her shirt a bit to assess the wound. It was worse than he thought. The Death Eater had wanted to make sure he gave her a fatal wound, and it looked as though he had probably succeeded. "I need a wand," Draco said.

Ginny and Luna just stood above Hermione, sobbing, while Ron and Harry were down on the ground with Draco, saying her name and trying to keep her awake. Nobody was even paying attention to Draco. "Somebody go get me my wand!" he bellowed. Luckily, Luna heard him this time and obeyed; she quickly ran in the direction their wands had all landed.

"Step aside," said a calm, gentle voice from above. Draco glanced up to see that Dumbledore had arrived, along with Professor McGonagall. Of course – _they_ had been the ones shouting out the spells.

Harry and Ron obeyed the old man, but Draco remained where he was. Dumbledore knelt down beside Hermione. "Miss Granger. Can you hear me?"

Hermione's eyes flickered over to the Headmaster and she nodded slightly. A small droplet of blood began to emerge from the corner of her mouth.

"Everything is going to be alright, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said soothingly. He took out his wand, pointed it at her abdomen and began muttering a spell that Draco did not recognize. A healing spell of some sort, perhaps? If it was, it didn't seem to be working.

The world suddenly became eerily silent, save the soft sound of Dumbledore's voice and everyone's sobbing – it was as if the world around them had ceased to exist. And maybe…just maybe it _had._

Draco kept his eyes glued to Hermione, silently willing her to get better – to stay alive. "Hermione," he whispered – so softly, he wasn't sure she'd be able to hear him.

But apparently, she did. Slowly, her eyes flickered over to him. She no longer looked afraid or shocked. She looked like a girl who had just realized her fate, and was accepting it. She reached out her hand weakly to him – most likely taking the last bit of energy she had in her – and took his hand in hers.

The gesture touched Draco so deeply that he wasn't sure he would be able to speak, as he began to feel a lump forming in the back of his throat. "Hermione," whispered again, not caring if anyone around them heard this. He had to tell her. He couldn't let her leave with letting her know. "Hermione, I -"

But he did not have the time to finish the words. Slowly, she closed her eyes as a single tear trailed down the side of her face, and her hand fell limp in his grasp.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried. She knelt down beside Hermione and nudged her. "Damn you, Hermione! You can't do this to us! Wake up!"

But Hermione didn't respond.

Dumbledore closed his eyes and lowered his wand. Professor McGonagall let out a sob as she placed a hand on Dumbledore's shoulder. He had tried to save her, but he'd failed.

Draco loosened his grip on Hermione's hand and let it fall gently to the ground. He glanced around at Harry…at Ron…at Ginny and Luna…at Dumbledore and McGonagall. Their grief was palpable and overwhelming. Ginny was now clinging to Hermione, as if she was trying to hug her back to life. Luna looked a bit weak in the knees, but a sobbing Ron had a firm grip on her. And Harry – Harry looked like he was in a state of shock, as if it hadn't quite sunk in yet.

Numbly, Draco stood up. Nobody even glanced at him as he did, not that he would have expected them to. When he finally managed to tear his eyes away from Hermione's lifeless body, he turned around and began heading back towards Hogwarts.

He only made it a few steps, though, before his whole world came crumbling down around him, engulfing him in total darkness as the ground rose up to meet him.

* * *

Draco opened his eyes and was greeted with the view of an unfamiliar ceiling above him, and the feeling of an unfamiliar bed beneath him. 

"Mr. Malfoy, welcome back," said a pleasant voice next to him.

Groaning, he sat up in the bed. Glancing around the room, he quickly realized the bed he had been lying in was one of the infirmary's beds. And the voice that had just spoken to him belonged to Madame Pomfrey. The hospital wing? What was he doing there?

"What am I doing here?" he asked.

"You collapsed," Madame Pomfrey replied. "Professor Dumbledore brought you here. He thinks perhaps it was a side effect of a spell. You're going to be perfectly fine."

He had blacked out? He struggled to remember what he had been doing earlier, that would have caused him to collapse but nothing came to mind. Nothing but –

"Granger," he whispered. Suddenly, the memory came flooding back to him – the hooded man…the dagger…Hermione…

Immediately, his heart began to race. Hermione was dead. She had been murdered before his very eyes. The realization of this hit him so hard that he suddenly could not breath. Hermione…dead. No, it couldn't be. It wasn't possible. She _couldn't_ be…

Wait…of course she wasn't. It had all just been a horrible nightmare! That's right – he had blacked out, and while he was unconscious, he had dreamt that Hermione died – a dream obviously brought on from their discussion the night before about Trelawney's prediction. It was as simple as that! He breathed a sigh of relief and found himself chuckling.

"Is something funny?" Nurse Pomfrey said.

"Yeah, actually," Draco replied. "When I was out, I had this dream – well, more like a _nightmare_, really."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I had a dream that I was forced to watch someone I know get killed – and I couldn't do anything to stop it. You know how that happens in dreams, right? You always get frozen in one spot in the most inopportune time."

He had expected Madame Pomfrey to smile politely and nod – maybe even tell him of her own experience with a dream like that – but instead, she quickly turned away. It wasn't until that moment that he realized that the nurse was not her normal self. Usually, she was quick to scold Draco whenever he paid a visit to the infirmary, and lecture him about how he shouldn't do whatever it was he did that landed him in there. It wasn't until that moment that he realized that when she had first spoken to him when he'd woken up, her voice had sounded slightly shaky and completely devoid of any cheer that her voice usually contained - even when she was being curt with him. It wasn't until that moment that he realized her eyes were red and puffy, as though she had been crying.

"It was a dream," Draco whispered. He did not put it in the form of a question, because he did not want to hear Madame Pomfrey's answer. And somehow, he figured if he told himself it had all just been a dream, then it would be true.

Madame Pomfrey let out a small sob. That was all the confirmation he needed.

Immediately, he got up off the infirmary bed. He swayed a bit when his feet hit the floor, and the dizziness was immediately accompanied by a bout of nausea. But he ignored it all and quickly brushed past Madame Pomfrey.

"Mr. Malfoy!" she called after him as he headed for the door. "You can't leave! You need to stay until you're better! You're in no condition to -"

"I'm fine," Draco muttered, even though it was the farthest thing from the truth. He paid no heed to her warnings and continued on his way.

The trek back to his common room seemed to last an eternity. Most of the time, he was not even aware of his surroundings. He had no real sense of direction, as his mind was clouded with visions he wanted so desperately to get out of his head. He was truly amazed that he managed to find his way back to the Head Students' tower – and even more amazed that for once, the knight in the portrait paid no attention to him. In fact, he was so busy consoling The Fat Lady from Gryffindor's portrait, whose loud sobs echoed throughout the hallway, to even notice that Draco had arrived home. Only when Draco absent-mindedly uttered the password, did the knight even look up. Without a word, the knight swung open the door and Draco made his way through the portrait hole.

The very first sight he was greeted with when he walked into the common room was Dobby and Winky scampering around, putting the finishing touches on what was supposed to have been a pleasant holiday dinner between him and Hermione. And the house elves had done a splendid job preparing for it. All of the furniture had been moved out of the room, except for a dinner table which was already set, along with a vase of flowers and candles adorning the center. Soft violin music was playing from somewhere in the room – Draco was not sure from where exactly – and Winky was humming along with it completely out of tune. The sound made his blood boil with anger. Not because she sounded so terrible, but because she sounded so _happy_. Happiness was now a distant memory for Draco. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to feel it again.

Dobby caught sight of Draco and said cheerfully, "Dobby and Winky prepared good meal for Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy! Dobby and Winky are almost done -"

Slowly, Draco walked over to the dinner table. When he approached Dobby, he pushed him out of the way, causing the elf to stumble back into Winky, and the two of them fell into a heap on the floor. Dobby furrowed his brow and said, "Draco Malfoy does not appreciate Dobby and Winky's work!"

Ignoring Dobby, Draco walked straight over to the table. He paused for one moment, looking at the great job Dobby and Winky had done on it, before completely destroying it.

With one arm, he started to push everything onto the floor: the plates, the silverware, the glasses, the basket of rolls – even the candles, which instantly ignited once they hit the floor. Quickly, Dobby rushed over and began to put the flames out by stomping on them. Unfazed by the destruction he was causing, Draco continued his rampage by heaving the vase of flowers up against the wall with all of his strength. Next, he picked up each of the chairs and threw them as far across the room as he could, knocking over various things in the process. Finally, he took hold of the table and overturned it completely, letting it fall to the floor with a loud _thud_. When he was done, he realized his pulse was racing and he was breathing hard. And he wasn't sure, but he probably looked like a deranged lunatic at that moment. Letting out a loud, ragged breath, he slumped to the floor.

Judging from the frightened expressions on both of the house elves' faces, he certainly _had_ looked like a deranged lunatic.

"D-Draco M-Malfoy scare D-Dobby," the house elf sputtered. He clung onto Winky as though he was protecting her – or vice versa. "Hermione Granger will not like her dinner now. Where is Hermione Granger?"

"Hermione Granger will not be joining us tonight," Draco replied stoically. Suddenly, he no longer felt the uncontrollable rage he had just succumbed to moments before. He did not feel any grief or anguish. In fact, he suddenly felt nothing at all.

"Why not?" Dobby asked in a small voice, almost as if he was afraid to hear the answer.

Draco stood up from the floor and immediately began to head in the direction of his bedroom.

"Because," he replied flatly, without even glancing back, "Hermione Granger is dead."

* * *

Author's Note #2: I realize Hermione's death was somewhat abrupt and didn't actually make much sense, but I promise that everything will be explained in a later chapter. :) 


	15. Acceptance

**Author's Note:** I actually have to get to work, so I don't really have time to write too much of an author's note this time. So...thanks to all for reviewing! Oh, and to clear up the confusion of last chapter for a couple of people - that last chapter was a _flashback_, so it was the _real_ Hermione who was murdered, not the new one.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own nothing.

* * *

"I don't think I've ever been this nervous before," Hermione said, peeking around the corner to glance into the Great Hall.

Draco remained completely silent. He stood leaning up against the wall, staring straight up at the ceiling, trying to pretend Hermione did not exist. He had been forced by Dumbledore to accompany Hermione to the Great Hall that morning – Monday morning – and to wait outside until he was done making the announcement to the students of her arrival. So far, the old man was still waiting to get the attention of everyone.

"Do you think they'll like me?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

"No," Draco said simply, without hesitation. He didn't bother to look to see if his answer had hurt her. Her silence was indication enough.

With a sigh, he continued. "It's just going to be weird, that's all. To everyone, it's going to be like Hermione is back from the dead. Even though they will be told you are a completely different person from a completely different dimension, everyone is going to look at you, and they are going to see _her_. But they are going to know that you're _not_ her, and they are all going to hate you for that."

Hermione studied him closely. "Are you _sure_ that's how everyone is going to feel? Or are you just _assuming_ that's how they're going to feel, because it's how _you_ feel?"

"I don't hate you, Granger," Draco said stiffly. "I don't even know you."

"But you don't appear to _want_ to get to know me."

"You're right. I don't."

"Listen, Malfoy-"

She stopped talking the moment she heard Dumbledore's voice coming from inside the Great Hall. She and Draco immediately spun around and glanced inside to see the old man standing before all of the students, who were now completely silent.

"May I have everyone's attention, please," he was saying as most of the students turned their attention to him. "I have an announcement to make. A couple of nights ago, Hogwarts received a most extraordinary visitor – one whom I would like to introduce to all of you."

Beside Draco, Hermione took a deep breath and held it in. After a few seconds, she let it out in one big _whoosh_. She held her hands up in front of her. "I'm shaking," she whispered.

"Calm down, Granger," Draco hissed as he strained to hear what Dumbledore was saying.

"…may come as a shock to you all, but please do not be alarmed, and please give her a warm welcome. Would our guest please step into the Great Hall?"

Hermione made a little whimpering sound, and Draco rolled his eyes. "Get in there, Granger. It's not going to be as bad as you think."

Gently, he nudged her along. With another deep breath, she stepped through the doorway, into plain sight for all of the students to see.

There was an immediate reaction amongst the students – something like a collective gasp, then complete silence. After a few moments of the silence, though, everyone began to murmur amongst themselves, staring at Hermione with mixed expressions of astonishment and horror.

"Boys and girls," Dumbledore said loudly over their voices. "I would like you to meet Hermione Granger." He motioned for Hermione to join him up at the front of the room.

"But Hermione is dead!" one student called out in fright.

"This is not the Hermione Granger we all knew," Dumbledore continued as Hermione joined him at his side. "She has come to us from another dimension."

"Another _what_?" someone else cried out.

From outside the room, Draco watched intently as the whole scene unfolded. He couldn't help but feel sorry for Hermione. Obviously, the students were not going to be accepting of her – at least not right off.

Glancing over at the Grryfindor table, Draco noticed a mix of emotions: Ginny looked pleased; Ron looked somber; Lavender Brown looked like she was about ready to cry; Neville Longbottom looked downright terrified; and Harry…well…Harry was not even paying attention. But if Draco had to guess what he was feeling at the moment, he would say Harry was probably very unhappy.

Dumbledore proceeded to try and explain the whole situation to the students, but nobody seemed to really understand. Or perhaps they did – they would just need to wait for the shock to wear off. Draco knew all about that. It was the same thing _he _had experienced after he first met her.

Eventually, Dumbledore's speech was over and Hermione apprehensively headed over to the Gryffindor table. He watched as Ginny waved her on over, having saved her a seat. Hermione seemed to notice Harry sitting so close – on the other side of Ginny – and hesitated for a moment before sitting down. This intrigued Draco. This was the second time she had seen Harry and acted weird around him. She seemed fine around Ginny, Ron and Luna, and even around Draco. But Harry's presence somehow…unnerved her? Draco wasn't sure. He made a mental note to ask her about it later.

Slowly, Draco made his way into the Great Hall and headed over to the Slytherin table, where the topic of conversation was, of course, the resurrection of Hermione Granger.

"She's a lot hotter than the other one," Goyle was saying as Draco sat down.

"Eww, you did _not_ just call Hermione Granger _hot_," Millicent Bulstrode said, scrunching up her face in disgust.

"_What_?" he said defensively. "She _is_. With that short little skirt and that soft, shiny hair…" His voice trailed off as he noticed everyone at the table within earshot was staring at him in horror.

Draco chose to ignore the whole conversation, and hoped that nobody tried to include him in it. Glancing around the table, though, nobody was even paying attention to him. No one, that is, except for Pansy.

"Hello," she said pleasantly.

"Hey," he muttered. His gaze flickered over to the Gryffindor table, where Harry was now getting up to leave.

"So this new Granger," Pansy was saying to him. "It's weird, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Is she staying with you right now?"

Draco sighed. "Yes."

"How long have you known? I mean, how long has she been here? Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Pansy, shut up," Draco snapped. "Please."

Looking genuinely hurt, Pansy frowned and mumbled, "Sorry."

"No," Draco said, "it's okay. It's just…I don't feel like answering all of these questions right now, okay?"

Pansy nodded and then turned to Millicent and began talking to her. Draco felt relieved that she didn't continue.

"Hey," another voice said to him.

Draco glanced over to see Blaise staring at him. Draco did not return the greeting. Instead, he stood up from the table and began to walk away. He really couldn't deal with this right now. Luckily, nobody followed him. But before he left the Great Hall, he did sneak a glance at Hermione over at the Gryffindor table. It seemed as though everyone there was quickly warming up to her – though a bit tentatively. Maybe this wasn't going to be as bad as they had both thought. Maybe everyone would end up loving the new Hermione and would accept her as a substitute.

But Draco never would.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who felt that way. As he neared his common room, he noticed somebody sitting underneath the portrait, waiting for him. As he got closer, he recognized the boy right away.

"_Potter_?"

Harry quickly stood up from the floor when he saw Draco. "I was hoping you'd stop by here before class."

"Well, here I am," Draco said stiffly. "What do you want?"

Draco and Harry had never gotten along, and there was always a lot of animosity between them – but never as much as there was during the two months following Hermione's death. So naturally, Draco was quite surprised and very curious as to why Harry was waiting for him.

"We need to talk," Harry said as the portrait hole opened up. "May I come in?"

"Sure," Draco mumbled. "Be my unwanted guest."

Harry ignored that and followed him into the common room.

"So what's this about, Potter?"

Harry began pacing the room. "This new Hermione girl - what do you know about her?"

Draco shrugged. "Not much."

"_Not much_?" Harry spat. "You've been living with her for a couple of days now, and you haven't found out anything about her yet?"

"She doesn't talk much about anything," Draco said. "And I don't really ask her too many questions. And even if I did, she would probably lie."

"Lie?"

"Yeah. _Lie_," Draco replied. "She's not exactly the same sweet and innocent Hermione we all knew and lov -" He stopped quickly before he could finish the sentence – _we all knew and loved_…

Harry didn't seem to notice Draco's near-slip. He was still pacing the floor, looking deep in thought. "I don't trust her," he said simply.

"Why not?" Draco asked. "You've only met her once, and not for very long. In fact, you're probably the one person who is the _least _allowed to judge her _because_ of that."

Harry shook his head. "You don't understand, Malfoy. Whenever I see her, or think about her – something's just not right about her. I can't explain it, and I can't quite put my finger on it, but…something just isn't right. I can feel it."

Draco sighed in annoyance. "Okay. Fine. You have a problem with her. What does this have to do with me?"

"You are living with her!" Harry snapped. "You have the perfect opportunity to find out what exactly is going on!"

"Potter, you are paranoid. Now, I don't exactly like this new Hermione myself, but I'm not going to waste my time interrogating her every chance I get. If you think something is wrong about this whole situation, then _you_ investigate it. I don't have time for this. Now, if you would please let yourself out."

Draco brushed past Harry and headed toward his bedroom, but Harry stopped him.

"I'm surprised," he said. "I would think you of all people would want to get to the bottom of this. I mean, after all, considering the way you felt about the real Hermione."

Perhaps it was the spite in Harry's voice as he said it. Or, perhaps it was the fact that he'd said it at all. Either way, it caused Draco's hands clench to fists at his side.

"I believe I asked you to leave, Potter," he said as calmly as possible.

Surprisingly, Harry obeyed. Without another word, he left the common room and headed out the portrait hole.

It had certainly been an interesting visit. It had almost seemed as though Harry wanted them to work together on this. Why else would he bother coming to Draco – especially since the two were sworn enemies?

He had to admit, though, Harry's visit now got him thinking. Of course something was off about this Hermione – because she wasn't _the_ Hermione. But what if there was more to it than that? What if there was something about this Hermione that was…_wrong_? Dangerous, even?

Well...maybe he would have to find out himself.

* * *

**_December 25th – late Christmas evening_**

Draco was not sure how long he had been sitting couch, in the dark, staring at the wall. It could have been five minutes; it could have been an eternity. Really, it was all the same to him.

It wasn't until he'd heard the portrait hole open up that he realized he hadn't moved at all since the house elves had left a couple of hours ago, and that he had not even been aware of his own surroundings. When had the room gotten so dark?

"Mr. Malfoy?" a soft voice said.

Draco recognized the voice, so he ignored it.

"Draco?" the voice tried again. When the visitor once again failed to get Draco's attention, he waved his wand about and said, "_Lumos_!"

Bright light filled the room so suddenly that Draco automatically shut his eyes to keep it out. When he opened them again, the light was a little easier to handle. He squinted up at the old man who stood before him. "What do you want?" he mumbled.

Professor Dumbledore took a seat across from him. If he noticed the mess Draco had made of the place earlier, he did not mention it. "I came to see how you were doing. Madame Pomfrey informed me that you ran out of the infirmary before you should have. That was a very powerful spell that Death Eater cast upon all of you -"

"Who was it?" Draco interjected, his voice completely devoid of any emotion.

"I assure you he is in custody, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore replied. "And he will pay severely for what he has done. But I am afraid I cannot reveal that information to you. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley have already asked, and I told them nothing, either."

"Why did he do it?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid we don't know yet. He has refused to talk thus far. He is obviously as deranged as they come. I'm sure he felt as though he were performing a service for a higher being -"

Draco snorted. "The Dark Lord, I assume? He is no _higher being_."

Dumbledore nodded. "Nevertheless, I'm sure he had his reasons. To him, they were justified. But to _us_…" His voice trailed off.

"Listen, Draco," he continued, "sometimes people do things, and there is not always an explanation – at least an acceptable one. What this man did, he will pay dearly for – that I am sure of. But the truth is, we may never know _why_ he did what he did – and if we _were_ to find out, there is no explanation that would justify what happened. We just have to accept it -"

"Fuck that," Draco muttered under his breath.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, but did not reprimand Draco for his use of foul language. Instead, he stood up and said, "I'm very glad to see you are feeling better, Mr. Malfoy. But may I suggest you get some sleep? It's been a long day."

Draco said nothing, just continued to stare straight ahead.

"I will let myself out," Dumbledore said, heading to the portrait hole. When he got there, he stopped and turned around. "Oh, I wanted to inform you that we will be holding a memorial service for Miss Granger the day the rest of the students arrive back from holiday. I just thought you would like to know."

As soon as the old man was out the door, Draco finally took his gaze off the wall. He stared at the portrait hole, which was now closed, and the first thing that came to his mind was that Hermione would never come through that door ever again. She would never sit on this couch again, reading one of her boring old books. She would never again light up the room with her smile. He was never going to see her again.

And he was supposed to just _accept_ that? How insensitive could that old man be? Had _he_ already accepted it? Most likely. Hermione was just another student who had fallen victim somehow to Voldemort's cause – like Cedric Diggory before her. Sure, they would hold a memorial service to remember her and to honor her, just as they had done for him, but then that would be the end of it. Everyone would go back to their normal lives. Sure, once in a while someone might mention her name, or remember how she used to raise her hand every single time a professor asked a question in class – but then they would all forget. Eventually, even the memory of Hermione Granger would be gone from Hogwarts forever – especially after their class graduated this year.

No…Draco would not let that happen. He would not allow Hermione to be forgotten by anyone.

A memorial service? Draco laughed. That was all Dumbledore could think to do? He failed to save her life – so he thought a memorial service could somehow make up for it? Well, it couldn't, and it wouldn't. Because Draco decided then and there that there would _be_ no memorial service.

Before Dumbledore had arrived, Draco had been thinking long and hard about the events that had taken place earlier. He had sworn to Hermione that he would protect her - but _he_ had failed as well. But perhaps it was not too late.

He knew of Time-Turners – a small device that allowed witches and wizards to travel back in time. He even knew of the fact that Hermione herself had used one a few years ago to take on more than one class at once. Of course, he knew very little of _how_ to use one, but it couldn't be _too_ hard – he would just have to set it back to the time before they had all headed down to Hogsmeade. Perhaps he could somehow cause something to happen that would prevent them from going. He knew enough about time travel and the Time-Turners to know that it wouldn't be wise to interact with anyone from the past – especially himself.

He knew Dumbledore most likely had one in his office. So naturally, his first obstacle would be finding a way to obtain it without the old man finding out. The second obstacle would be trying to think of some sort of diversion to prevent Hermione from leaving Hogwarts. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep tonight – suddenly, his mind was racing with all sorts of thoughts and ideas. Suddenly, he was feeling quite optimistic.

So no…there was going to be no memorial service. Because by the time all of the students arrived back from holiday, Hermione would still be alive. Draco was going to make sure of that. He was going to keep his promise to her. He was going to protect her.

He was going to save her life.

* * *


	16. Let Go

**Author's Note:** Just to let everyone know (because my story can tend to get confusing with the flashbacks and present day scenes mixed together) - this ENTIRE chapter is a flashback, despite the page breaks. Thanks to everyone again for reviewing. Seriously - you guys and your reviews is what gives me the incentive to continue with this. :)

**Disclaimer:** I only own the story I've concocted in my mind. Everything else belongs to JK Rowling.

* * *

_**  
December 26th**_

Draco did not sleep that night. He never even left the couch until the tiniest bit of sunlight began pouring in through the window the next morning.

Phase one of his plan was about to be executed.

Figuring he had a bit of time before he had to leave, Draco decided to jump in the shower. He thought perhaps it would revive him – or that it would wash away some of his pain.

It did neither.

Ten minutes later, he was making his way toward the Ravenclaw tower. He did not hold out much hope that this part of the plan would work, but he was going to give it his best shot. And it he failed, he would just have to come up with another idea.

The fair maiden in the portrait outside of Ravenclaw's tower had taken a liking to Draco back in his fifth year, when he briefly dated a girl from that house (he'd had no idea what had possessed him to do so). The maiden, as far as Draco knew, was the only portrait in the entire school that liked him at all. Not even the one that guarded his own tower liked him. So when he approached the portrait early that morning, she did not shun him, but rather greeted him warmly with a smile and a pleasant hello.

"Draco Malfoy!" the maiden said cheerfully. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Draco cleared his throat. "I'm, um…waiting. For…a friend."

"Oh, how lovely!" the maiden said. "But the only student who remains in here right now is Luna Lovegood."

"Actually, she is exactly the person I'm looking for."

The maiden looked confused for a second, then said, "Oh, of course! She'll probably be along soon. I'd let you in, but…well, you know…I'm not supposed to…"

"I understand," Draco said, "but do you mind if I just wait out here for her?"

"I don't mind at all, Draco! But I must warn you…" Suddenly, she lowered her voice and in a hushed tone said, "She is very upset right now. She was very good friends with -"

"Yeah, I know," Draco cut her off. He wasn't really interested in discussing the reason why Luna was upset. He didn't care to be reminded.

But perfect timing was on his side – Luna stepped out of the portrait hole before the maiden could say another word.

She froze when she saw him standing there, replacing her usual spaced-out look with one that was genuinely perplexed.

"Luna," Draco said as politely as he could.

"M-Malfoy," she stuttered.

Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked as though she had gotten as much sleep as _he_ had. Apparently, the maiden was right – Luna _was_ quite upset. But then, why wouldn't she be? She was one of Hermione's closest friends – and probably her _best_ friend after the whole Yule Ball fiasco.

"Can we talk?" he asked her.

She began to walk past him, saying, "Not right now. I'm meeting Harry, Ron and Ginny -"

"Please," Draco said, noting the pleading in his voice. Yes, he was pleading with her, and he hated it.

Hearing the desperation in his voice, Luna turned around. Apparently, curiosity was getting the best of her. She was probably wondering what Draco Malfoy would ever have to talk to _her_ about.

"Let's walk," he muttered, grabbing her arm lightly. He smiled half-heartedly back at the portrait before leading Luna down the hallway and around the corner. As soon as they were out of earshot of anyone, he stopped walking and turned to her. "I need you to do me a favor."

Luna's eyebrows shot up. "Why would I do you a favor?"

This was going to be just as hard as he thought it would be. She had just asked a very good question – why _would_ she do him a favor? They were not friends. They weren't enemies, either, but he was an enemy to her friends. He was feeling defeated already, and for a brief moment he considered just forgetting about the whole thing and going back to the common room and sleep for the rest of his life. But realizing he hadn't yet given it a good try, he continued on.

"You were friends with Granger," he said softly.

At the mention of Hermione, Luna lowered her eyes and stared at the floor, sniffling. "Yes," she said in a small voice.

"Well," Draco continued, "this favor I ask of you – it may help bring her back."

Instantly, Luna's head shot up and she stared at him with wide eyes. "_What_?"

He mentally slapped himself for revealing too much too soon. It hadn't been part of his plan to tell Luna everything. But perhaps it was the right thing to do – if he could trust her not to blab to Potter and Co., that is. But of course, she wouldn't help him unless she knew what she was helping him with, and _why_. So he told her everything.

"Before I tell you anything, I need you to swear to me that it stays between us and _only_ us."

Luna hesitated for a moment. Her eyes darted around the hall like she was either looking for someone, or plotting her escape. "Okay," she said finally.

"Okay." Draco took a deep breath. "I've thought of a way to – to bring Granger back," he said in a strained voice. "But it's not going to be easy. That's why I need your help."

"_Bring her back_?" Luna reiterated. "You mean…like with a spell?"

"No," Draco said, shaking his head. "No, I don't want to bring her back from the dead. I want to make it so that she never died in the first place."

Luna looked confused. "But how -"

"A time-turner," Draco replied as quietly as he could, aware that anyone at anytime could come around that corner and hear every word they were saying. "I plan to go back in time, to yesterday, and prevent her death."

Luna gasped. "You can _do_ that?" Suddenly, her wide eyes went from sorrowful to hopeful in just one blink.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. But I need to try. I'm pretty sure Dumbledore has one in his office."

"That's wonderful!" Luna exclaimed. She paused. "But – how are you planning on getting into his office?"

"That's where _you_ come in," Draco replied.

"It is?"

"Yes. Now, I happen to be aware that Potter is in possession of an invisibility cloak. I need that cloak if I'm going to pull this off. _You_ need to get it for me."

"_Me_?" Luna said, looking horrified. "Why me?"

"Because," Draco said, "you visit the Gryffindor tower all the time. In fact, you're going there right now, aren't you?"

"Yes, but -"

"So you will need to find a way to sneak into the boys' room to get it. He probably hides it under his mattress or something. Just look around until you find it, and then bring it back to me."

"I'm not going to steal from Harry Potter! He's my friend!"

"It's not stealing. It's _borrowing_," Draco said. "I'll give it right back to you after I'm done. Or maybe I won't have to, since our current reality as we know it will be changed, and you will have never taken it in the first place."

Luna seemed to be thinking it over. Finally, she said, "I will try my best, but I can't promise I'll be able to find it – let alone look for it without anyone suspecting anything."

Draco nodded. She certainly did not have an easy job ahead of her – though it paled in comparison to what _he_ was going to have to do. "They're grieving heavily right now," he said softly. "Use that to your advantage."

Luna opened her mouth to speak, but then quickly shut it. To Draco, it appeared as though she didn't quite know what to do. She would have to betray a friend to help save one, and he knew she would make the right decision.

Sure enough, he was right.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she said.

Draco nodded. "Meet me at the astronomy tower when you get it."

"Okay." Luna still sounded a bit hesitant, yet confident at the same time. Draco watched her as she bounded down the hallway. After she'd disappeared around the corner, he began to make his way toward the astronomy tower, silently praying that she'd come through for him.

* * *

Draco only had to wait about a half an hour before Luna entered the astronomy tower, invisible cloak in hand. When he saw it, he had an incredible urge to hug the girl – but he managed to contain himself, of course. 

"How did you manage to get it?" he asked her.

"Well, I did what you told me to – I used their grief to my advantage. Besides, only Ginny was there. I have no idea where Harry and Ron were -"

"Great," Draco said impatiently. He really didn't care how she'd done it – he only cared that she _had_. Time was wasting away, and he wanted to do this as soon as possible. "Listen, this is the plan: under this cloak, I will sneak over to the gargoyle that guards Dumbledore's office. You, meanwhile, will be hiding around the corner. Wait a few seconds, and then come running toward his office, screaming at the top of your lungs. That should be enough to get him out of his office. And as he comes out the door, _I_ will sneak in. Then, I will need you to keep Dumbledore occupied long enough for me to find the time-turner."

"How will I do that?" Luna asked.

Draco shrugged. "I'm sure you'll think of something. When he asks you what's wrong, tell him that you were just outside and you could have sworn you saw a Death Eater. Bring him out there to look with you. Do _not_ let him come back into his office no matter what for at _least_ ten minutes…you got that?"

Luna nodded apprehensively. "I-I'll try, but I can't promise -"

"Well, you'd better promise," Draco snapped. When he saw Luna flinch a bit, he quickly softened his voice and said, "Hermione's life depends on this."

"I know," Luna said in a small voice.

So they headed for Dumbledore's office. Halfway there, Draco draped the cloak over him so that no one would see him walking with Luna. Even though he could not see the effect of the cloak while he was under it, he could certainly feel the power it gave him. Potter was a lucky bastard to be in possession of one – he could only imagine the kind of mischief one could get away with whilst wearing it.

When they finally approached Dumbledore's office, they stopped walking.

"Are you still here?" Luna whispered.

"Yeah," Draco replied in a quiet voice. "Are you ready to do this?"

Luna shrugged. "Ready as I ever will be, I suppose."

"Good. I'm heading over to the entrance now. Wait about thirty seconds before you start screaming, okay?"

Luna nodded as Draco made his way quietly over to the gargoyle statue. He pressed his back firmly up against the wall, so as to be out of the way when Dumbledore came out. He silently counted down thirty seconds, and soon after he'd hit zero, he heard Luna begin to scream. He smirked at how convincing she sounded. Apparently, he'd employed the right girl for the job.

A few seconds later, he saw her round the corner and head toward him. "Professor Dumbledore!" she cried.

No sooner than she'd said his name did the gargoyle statue slide over, revealing the hidden door to the Headmaster's office. Immediately, it swung open and Dumbledore rushed out.

"Ms. Lovegood?" he said. "What is going on?"

Draco did not wait around to hear Luna's answer; he quickly slid past the doorway before the door had a chance to shut. He breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he was safe inside, standing on a spiral staircase that led up to the office. He'd been inside Dumbledore's office before, so he was not surprised when the staircase began to move, slowly ascending to the circular room above. However, it didn't remember the staircase moving so slowly last time he was in there, so he jumped a few steps to hurry the process up a bit.

Once at the top, he hopped off the stairs and entered the room. Luckily for him, Fawkes the phoenix appeared to be dozing and hadn't noticed the intrusion. Quietly as he could, Draco made his way over to the Headmaster's desk. But of course, all of the drawers were sealed shut with spells – Draco hadn't thought of that.

"Dammit," he whispered, as he took off the invisibility cloak and threw it down on the desk. He would have to search the top of the desk, which was covered with multiple little gadgets, and the bookshelves first, and hope that there was a time-turner stuffed somewhere that wasn't behind lock-and-key. He cursed himself for not having anticipated this dilemma beforehand. He knew that no amount of "alohomora"ing would open any of the drawers. Chances were very good that the Headmaster had cast some sturdy locking spells on them.

So instead, he started rifling through everything on the desk. There were lots of gadgets and gizmos – most of which Draco didn't even recognize – but nothing that even slightly resembled a time-turner.

"Fuck!" he hissed after he'd finished searching the whole top of the desk. He rushed over to one of the bookshelves and began hauling books off and hurling them onto the floor, in hopes that there would be a time-turner hidden behind one. He even searched inside each and every one, in case one of the books had a secret compartment in it. But the more books he pulled out, the more he realized that he was just wasting his time. If Dumbledore had a time-turner, it would be safely locked inside his desk, not anywhere out in the open.

"This is one of my favorite books," a voice behind him said.

Draco jumped at the sound and spun around to see Dumbledore bending down, picking one of the books off the floor.

"I first read it when I was your age, I think. I must have read it a hundred times since." Dumbledore's voice was soft and friendly – certainly not the voice of someone who'd just found out his office had been broken into and vandalized. Draco looked behind the old man to see Luna standing there, her shoulders hunched forward, a look of defeat on her face. When his gaze met hers, she quickly looked to the floor and hung her head.

Dumbledore turned to Luna and said, "Ms. Lovegood, may I please speak with Mr. Malfoy alone?"

"Yes, sir," Luna mumbled as she turned to go.

After she was gone, Draco expected to Dumbledore to unleash his wrath on him. But he didn't. Instead, he walked casually over to his desk and sat down. "Have a seat, Draco," he said, motioning to one of the chairs in front of the desk.

Draco obeyed. He eyed the Headmaster suspiciously, wondering why the old man wasn't blowing up at him. Certainly, he deserved it.

"Draco," Dumbledore said softly. "What you are looking for is not here."

"How do you know what I'm looking for?" Draco asked coolly. But of course – Luna must have told him.

Instead of answering the question, Dumbledore leaned forward and said, "Let me tell you a story. About a hundred years ago, a young wizard named Diagon obtained a time-turner as a birthday present from his uncle. At first, he did not quite realize the potential this item had. In all honesty, he mainly thought it was a handsome piece of gold he could show off to his friends. He vaguely knew what a time-turner was, but he'd never had any real need for one, nor did he even know how one worked – and he was never very studious, so he didn't care to research it. However, there did come a day, a few years later, when he realized just how powerful the time-turner was.

"Diagon was one of the wealthiest known wizards at the time, and was envied by all. Not only was he a powerful wizard with many riches, but he was also married to one of the most beautiful witches many had ever seen. He had it all - until one night, whilst he and his wife Rosemary were walking home from a pleasant dinner at their friend's mansion, they came upon a group of young wizards brawling in the street. Both Diagon and Rosemary were concerned about this, and they made a decision to step in and stop it before anyone got hurt. However, as they approached, they realized the situation was more serious than they had originally thought. Two young wizards already lie dead on the ground, and all the rest had their wands pointed at each other, many shouting various unforgivable curses at each other. Diagon and Rosemary just stood there in horror, watching these young men take each other's lives – it all just seemed so senseless to them.

"What happened next happened so quickly that Diagon had no time to react: one of the young wizards had pointed their wands at another young man and shouted the death curse at him. But the other wizard was too quick, and had managed to duck before the spell could hit him. It, instead, continued past its intended target, and hit Rosemary square on the chest, killing her instantly. Diagon, of course, was in a state of shock. He first knelt down next to his wife and tried to revive her, but she was…gone. Diagon knew that he would not be able to live the rest of his life without her, so he knew right away what he would have to do: he would have to use the time-turner to get her back.

"He ran home as quickly as he could to retrieve it. He was still uncertain how exactly to use it, but he thought he knew enough. Once he had retrieved it, he set the clock back about an hour, and then apparated back to his friend's mansion where his wife and himself were still inside. He cast a powerful spell on the house - one that would prevent anyone from leaving, thus preventing himself and Rosemary from being anywhere near that group of young wizards. Feeling satisfied with what he'd done, he set the clock ahead, back to the time it was before he'd used the time-turner. He was excited, because he figured when he returned, his wife would be there to welcome him. Instead, many eyewitnesses on the street later claimed they saw Diagon appear briefly before them, then simply _dematerialize _right before their very eyes. You see, despite the spell he cast upon the mansion, Diagon and his wife were able to counteract it and leave. But apparently that little delay changed just enough so that when he and Rosemary encountered the group of wizards on the street, it was _Diagon_ who'd been hit with the death curse, not Rosemary - which was why his existence had appeared to cease to everyone on the street - because since he had died a short while before, there was no way he could possibly be walking by them on the street -"

Finally, Draco had enough and interrupted the Headmaster. "With all do respect, sir, I've heard that story before, and that's all it is - a _story._ One that parents tell their kids, in hopes of scaring them from ever using a time-turner. My father told me that story when I was about eight years old, and I didn't even believe it _then._ First of all, it's not even a plausible situation, what with the whole paradox of he couldn't possibly have died in the past, because he would have needed to still be alive to go back into time in the first place -"

Dumbledore smiled. "Ahh. Well, that story usually works. But I guess it works better with children, who don't even understand the concept of paradox. Even _I_ don't fully understand the concept of paradox..."

"Sir, I need a time-turner. Please."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "Even if I had one, Mr. Malfoy - which I _don't_ - I would not give it to you. Time is not something to be fooled with."

"You don't understand," Draco said.

"You would be surprised what I _do_ understand, Draco. If you wanted to use a time-turner to take extra classes, as I'm sure you are aware that Ms. Granger did in her third year, then we could possibly discuss it. But for what you want to use it for - well, I'm afraid I cannot help you with that."

"But sir -"

Dumbledore held up his hand as if to silence him. "I am sorry, Draco. I know you only have the best intentions, but this is something that needs to be left alone. Now, I know if you really want to do this, you will find a way - as difficult as it would be - and I could not stop you. But you have got to let this go. Let her go."

The old man stood up and walked around his desk. "If you will excuse me, Mr. Malfoy, I have some very important business to attend to. I would appreciate it if you would return that cloak to Mr. Potter, and think twice about ever breaking into my office again." His voice was not angry, but firm.

Feeling defeated, Draco followed Dumbledore over to the spiral staircase. Dumbledore placed a hand gently on Draco's shoulder and said,"You're a smart boy, Draco. I know you will do the right thing."

Draco did not say a word as the staircase slowly lowered to the ground below. That story had not scared him - but the old man was right. If he was even able to obtain a time-turner, which was unlikely, he could possibly, inadvertantly, cause something even more catastrophic to happen instead. And who was to say that whatever he was going to do in the past would have prevented Hermione from dying, anyway? Perhaps she was just _meant_ to die that day, no matter what. Maybe if he'd even been given a chance to try and save her, he would have still failed - because that was the way it was supposed to be.Dumbledore was right. He needed to let it go. He needed to let _her_ go.

He just had no idea _how_.

* * *

Draco's limbs felt heavy as he made his way back to the Heads' tower. Inside, he felt numb. When he reached the portrait, he muttered the password, "sugarplum", which Hermione had changed it to just a few days before Christmas. Draco hadn't liked her choice of passwords, but he hadn't argued with her because she was just so excited about the upcoming holiday, and she'd thought changing it would be cute, and perhaps put Draco into a festive mood. He would have never admitted to her that it had. 

The knight in the portrait acknowledged him with a solemn nod. Draco waited for him it to swing open, but the knight was too busy staring over Draco's shoulder.

"What?" Draco demanded.

"Looks like you have a visitor," the knight replied, pointing.

Draco spun around to see Harry standing directly behind him. Where had he come from? Draco hadn't noticed him near the portrait as he'd approached, and he would have sensed it had Harry been following him the whole way back.

"We need to talk," Harry said simply.

Draco stared at the boy in front of him. He looked worse than Luna had – and about as bad as Draco _felt_. He looked tired and pale; his eyes almost completely devoid of any emotion.

"Now is really not a good time, Potter," Draco said as the portrait hole opened up.

"No, I need to know something," Harry said. His voice was somewhere between pleading and enraged.

"What, Potter? What do you _need to know_?"

Harry hesitated a moment, as if afraid to answer the question. But finally he spoke, in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I need to know why…" His voice faltered. But taking a deep breath, he continued. "I need to know why it was _your_ hand Hermione held as she was dying. Why were _you_ the last person she saw before she died?"

Draco's breath hitched in his throat. He hadn't been expecting Harry to question it. Hell, he hadn't even been aware that anyone had noticed it at the time. But apparently _Harry_ had.

He was not sure how to respond. He could lie, or he could tell the truth. But honestly, he had no idea what the right answer was.

"Don't question things you don't want to know the answers to," he grumbled. He turned to head through the portrait hole, but Harry stopped him.

"But I _do_ want to know the answers," he said in a low voice.

Draco turned back around to face him. He was not in the mood to talk about any of this at the moment – and certainly not with Harry Potter. So he just blurted out whatever he could to get him to go away.

"What do you want me to tell you, Potter?" he growled. "What exactly is the answer that you want to hear? Do you want me to tell you that maybe it's because Hermione and I were getting along nicely for the last couple of months? Would you like me to tell you that it was because she was starting to think of me as a friend? Or would you like me to tell you that, perhaps, it was because she slept with me the night before she died?"

He regretted the words the second they had escaped his lips. And no sooner than he had spoken them did Harry's fist connect firmly with his jaw.

The impact was so great that he stumbled backwards a couple of feet. His first instinct was to punch back, but he restrained himself – after all, he _did_ deserve it.

"Lies," Harry said through clenched teeth. "I was her _best friend_! You were _nothing_ to her!"

Gently rubbing the spot Harry had hit, Draco said softly, "Maybe so, Potter. But then again, maybe you're wrong. I guess maybe you'll never really know. Perhaps if you had paid more attention to her these last few months, instead of drooling over the Weaslette -"

Harry's fist came flying at him again, but this time Draco was able to block the attack. He managed to quickly dodge out of the way just in time, and before Harry knew what had hit him, Draco had delivered to him the same blow to the face _he'd_ just received.

Harry swore as he touched the wounded area with his fingertips, wiping away a small amount of blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Potter," Draco said as calmly as possible, "we can do this until one or _both_ of us ends up in the hospital wing – and believe me, I would enjoy every second of it. But let's find another reason to do it, because fighting over Hermione liked more is pointless. And as much as you'd like somebody close to home to blame, her death was not my fault, and it wasn't yours, and no amount of fist fighting is going to bring her back."

Harry glared at him, but there was no way he could argue with that – so he didn't. In fact, he just shook his head, turned around, and began walking back down the hallway.

"I loved her," Harry said softly as he left. Draco was not sure whether or not he was telling that to _him_, or if he was just talking to himself.

"Yeah, well I loved her too," Draco mumbled. Luckily, Harry was too far away to hear him. But the knight in the portrait, who had witnessed the whole ordeal, _wasn't. _The knight gave him a sympathetic look as he entered the portrait hole.

Once the door was closed behind him, Draco collapsed against the wall and let out one, lone sob. His shoulders shook as though he was crying, but he refused to let any tears escape.

He had managed to fail her once again. He'd had only one chance to try and make things right, and he had fucked it up. Now Hermione was gone forever, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

* * *

He found her by the lake, sitting at the edge, skipping stones across the water. 

"Granger?" he called out to her.

She turned to him. She looked relieved. She smiled sweetly as he slowly made his way over to her. "Where have you been?" she asked.

"I've been lost," he replied.

She turned her head back towards the lake and skipped another stone – only this one just sank as soon as it hit the water. She frowned, looking thoroughly disappointed. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

He glanced down at the jagged stones in her hand. "They aren't smooth enough. And you're not holding your wrists correctly."

"I wasn't talking about the stones," she said sadly.

He sat down beside her and grabbed one of the rocks. With one swift movement, he flung it across the water. It skipped all the way to the other side of the lake, and then skipped all the way back to them, returning to his hand. "It's like magic."

She turned to him once again. "Can you help me find out what I'm doing?"

He stared at her. Her eyes were wide and glazed over with what appeared to be tears that were only seconds from spilling over. She looked so helpless, but he had no idea what he could do for her. "I thought I'd lost you."

She blinked. When she did, a tear fell delicately down her cheek. "But you've found me."

"Yes, I have."

The water in the lake slowly began to rise. He stared at the waves as they began to grow bigger and bigger, and he vaguely wondered what had suddenly brought on such rough conditions.

"You told me you would protect me, you know," she said suddenly. It was not an accusation, more of an observation.

"I know," he said. "And I meant it - I _did_. But there was nothing I could do to save you."

"Well, you could save me_ now_," she said.

"Huh?"

She skipped another stone. Only, the stone did not hit a flat surface of water - it disappeared through a tidal wave that somehow he had failed to notice was there. There was no time to react - the wave came crashing down over them, covering them completely with cold water. Suddenly, the lake seemed less like a lake, and more like an ocean. As he was pulled under the waves, and he expected to be able to touch the ground with his feet, but the ground was no longer there. Quickly, he kicked out his legs and swam up to the top. When he reached the surface, he took a deep breath of air and glanced around for her. She wasn't there.

"Hermione!" he yelled at the top of his voice. In a panic, he dove back down under the water to search for her. She couldn't have gone too far. But all he saw every which way was water. He came up for air one more time, then went under again. He was not going to give up until he found her.

Suddenly, he saw her, clear as day. She was a few feet below him, reaching her hand up toward him. He swam toward her, ready to take her hand, but the further down he swam, the further away she seemed to get.

"Hermione swim up to me. Take my hand." It didn't even seem odd to him that he was able to speak underwater.

She did not move, though. She just shook her head sadly and said, "It's too late to save me. _You're too late_."

Draco gasped as his eyes flew open. He expected to still be underwater, but instead, he was in the comfort of his own bedroom, in the comfort of his own bed. Breathing heavily, he buried his face in his hands. It had only been a dream. Or, more of a nightmare. One of many to come, though he had no way of knowing it at the time.

He knew at this very moment that he was going to be having a very hard time letting her go.

* * *


	17. Teamwork

**Author's Note:** I am terribly sorry for the delay in updating. I'm a bad, bad author, and I should be punished. I hope you're all still reading! Anyway...just to let you all know, there is a good chance **there will be no more flashbacks** in this story, so** from here on out (unless stated otherwise)** **everything you read takes place in the present**. I just wanted to clear that up, for anyone who might get confused. Thank you all for sticking with the story and reviewing. My boyfriend has once again encouraged me to continue with this, so that hopefully one day I might finish it. :)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot and the confusing story structure.

* * *

Draco moved the tip of his quill absentmindedly over a small piece of parchment in front of him. He'd always had a habit of doodling in class, but never more so than in the last couple of months. School just didn't interest him that much anymore.

Occasionally, he would sneak a quick glance over at Hermione, who was looking quite uncomfortable. Most of the students seemed to be paying more attention to her, with stares and whispers, than they were to Professor Snape. Draco couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for her, as much as he hated to admit it to himself.

"Veritaserum," Snape's monotone voice boomed out from the front of the classroom. "Possibly one of the most well-known potions of all-time, and certainly one of the most useful. Who here can name any one ingredient used in Veritaserum?"

A few of the students raised their hands, but Snape ignored all of them, his gaze resting on Hermione, who had slouched down in her chair, as if trying to hide from everyone.

"Miss Granger?" Snape snarled.

Draco stared at the girl as she started blushing furiously. Judging from the smirk on Snape's face, he was enjoying putting the spotlight on her.

Hermione cleared her throat and sat up straighter. "Um…" She glanced down at the parchment in front of her, as though perhaps she would magically find the answer written there. "I-I don't know, sir."

"What was that?" Snape said, making his way over to her desk. "You need to speak up, Miss Granger, because I could have sworn I heard you say that you _don't know_."

A few of the Slytherins in the back snickered.

"You heard correctly, sir," Hermione repeated in a louder voice. "I do not know."

"Well, well, well. We may _look_ like Hermione Granger, but we don't possess her smarts, do we? Very interesting – you're not an insufferable know-it-all like the other one."

Draco heard more laughs coming from behind him – he recognized one of those laughs as belonging to Crabbe. He had to resist the urge to turn around and tell him to fuck off…and then he had to wonder why it angered him so much to begin with.

By this time, Hermione's face was glowing completely red, and she looked as though she wished the floor would open up below her. Draco could relate to the feeling. Part of him wished it would open up below her as well.

Luckily, Snape soon returned to the front of the classroom. "Your next assignment will be to make your very own Veritaserum potion. I will pair you up, and you and your partner must perfect your potion by the end of next week. Next Friday, each and every one of you will test out your potion on a group of volunteers, so you will also need to compose a short list of questions to ask them." Snape picked up a piece of parchment from his desk. "The partners are as follows: Bones and Finch-Fletchley, Weasley and Parkinson, Bulstrode and Goyle…"

Snape continued to list off the names of everyone in the class, but Draco paid no attention until the professor named off the last pairing.

"…Malfoy and Potter."

Draco snapped his head up. "_Potter_?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," Snape replied with a satisfied smirk. "You and Potter. Now, class is almost over, but why don't you all go find your partners and get started on the project anyway. And you should all consider working on your potions in your spare time, as I'm sure it's going to be quite difficult for you all to perfect it by the deadline if you plan on just working on it in class. Keep in mind that it's going to take _at least_ five days for the potion to mature…"

Draco groaned inwardly as he drowned out the professor's voice. So much for his belief that Snape liked him. Of course, Snape probably _hated_ Harry Potter more than he _liked_ Draco, so he was probably getting some satisfaction in knowing that Harry was just as enraged about the pairing as Draco was.

He glared across the room at Harry, who was staring back at him with an equal amount of animosity. They both remained seated as everyone else around them got up to go sit with their partners. There was no way Draco was getting up and going over to _Harry_. He would remain where he was until Potter gave in and came to _him._ Luckily, it only took a few seconds for Harry to realize _he _was going to have to move, and he promptly joined Draco at his desk.

Harry set his books down on the desk and took a seat next to Draco. Neither one acknowledged the other with any sort of greeting. Instead, Draco wasted no time in getting down to business.

"So we should probably get together tonight and work on this," he said, not once glancing over at Harry. "Come by the Heads' tower at around seven, we'll work on it there."

Harry nodded. "Fine. So, have you talked to Hermione yet?"

Draco sighed in annoyance. "For crying out loud, Potter. You and I just had that conversation _this morning_."

"Yeah…so?"

"So, since we had that conversation, I've been in classes all day. When the hell would I have found the time to interrogate her? Besides, I never exactly said I would, anyway."

"Listen Malfoy," Harry said, "I really think that -"

The bell rang, cutting off the rest of Harry's sentence. Quickly, Draco gathered up his books and stood.

"Remember – seven o'clock," he said, and the made a mad rush for the door.

Blaise caught him as soon as he was out of the classroom. "Hey, Draco. So I guess I'll be seeing you later."

"What?"

"The project," Blaise said with a smirk. "I'm working with Granger, remember?"

No, actually Draco _hadn't_ remembered. He hadn't really been paying too much attention when Snape was reading off the list – that is, until he'd read of his and Potter's names. "Oh…right."

"Yeah. I suggested that she and I work on it at your place tonight. You going to be there?"

"Yeah," Draco mumbled. "Potter's coming over too."

"Great. It will be just like a party." Blaise snorted, muttered some sort of goodbye, and then continued on down the hallway.

As Draco watched him go, an uneasy feeling crept into his stomach. He didn't really like the idea of Blaise working with Hermione, but he didn't quite know why it bothered him, or more importantly, why he _cared_ that it bothered him. So he chose to ignore the feeling, and focus more on avoiding Harry as he exited the classroom.

Fortunately, Harry was too busy talking to Ron to notice Draco, who had pressed himself up against the wall next to the door to be less conspicuous. One person _did_ notice him, however. Hermione.

"Well that was fun," she mumbled, making her way over to him. "It's so nice to see that Snape is exactly the same in this world. For a moment there, I almost felt like I was home."

Draco smirked. "Honestly, I can't imagine Snape being any different, no matter what world he's from."

Hermione sighed. "And Blaise Zabini? He's not that much different either - although, he seems to be a bit more egotistical in _this_ world. Though I never thought _that_ would be possible."

"How close were you to Zabini in your world?"

Hermione shrugged. "I wasn't close with him at all. I just shared a few classes with him." She paused for a moment, then said, "So did he tell you that he's coming over tonight?"

"Yeah. Potter's coming over, too."

Hermione froze at those words. "Oh, really?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Yes," Draco replied. "Does that bother you?"

"Of course not," Hermione replied. "Why would it?"

But he could tell she was lying. He'd seen her reaction at the mention of Harry's name. It was obvious she was uncomfortable with the idea of being in the same room with him – but _why_ she was uncomfortable with it was a mystery.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. You just get all weird whenever Potter's name is mentioned."

"No, I don't," she insisted.

Draco decided to let it slide, since now was not the appropriate time to have any sort of discussion with her. "If you say so," he said. "Well, I'll see you later."

As he began to walk off, he noticed that she was following him.

"Wait, do think you could possibly show me where the library is?" she asked. "I'm not exactly sure where it is in this world. And I don't exactly know what it is we're supposed to be making."

"Veritaserum," he reminded her. "Weren't you paying any attention in class?"

"I was," Hermione replied, "but I don't know what _Veritaserum_ is."

Draco halted in his steps. He glanced back at Hermione with a raised eyebrow. "You don't know what Veritaserum is?"

Hermione shook her head.

"It's a truth potion," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"A truth potion?"

"Yeah. As in whoever drinks it is forced to tell the truth."

"Wow," Hermione breathed. "I don't think we have truth potions in my world."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No," Hermione said. "If a truth potion _does_ exist in my world, nobody has told _me_ about it."

"Amazing," Draco said, smirking. "Well, then, I guess you've found your first big difference between our world and yours."

"I guess so," she mumbled.

A few of minutes later, they arrived at the library. As soon as they walked in, Madam Pince, the librarian, gasped and muttered, "Oh my!"

Apparently, she hadn't prepared herself for the moment she would see the new Hermione Granger walk into her library, and from the looks of it, she had been taken completely by surprise.

Draco kept walking, and Hermione followed. He led her over to one of the shelves, where he then carefully examined the spines of each book until he found the one he wanted. When he finally located it, he took it off the shelf and handed it to her.

Hermione took the book and read the title aloud: "_A Plethora of Potions."_

"It will tell you everything you need to know about Veritaserum, and hundreds of other potions," he said, brushing past her. "It will tell you what ingredients you need for them, how to brew them, whatever. You're going to need that book desperately, since Zabini is your partner. I'm willing to bet he's going to make you do most of the work."

"I don't know about that," Hermione said. "After all, he told me that if I get the list of ingredients for him, he will get them for us."

This struck Draco as odd. For as long as he had known Blaise Zabini, the boy had never once offered to help with anything. Draco himself had been paired off with him before for school projects, and every single time, Blaise would find one reason or another not to cooperate. The only reason Draco ever put up with doing a majority of the work was because he knew Blaise would never lend a hand no matter what, so it was either do the work himself and pass, or _not_ do it and fail. So it just seemed a bit suspicious to Draco that Blaise had offered to actively participate in this project with Hermione.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't count on Blaise if I were you. He's one hundred percent Slytherin."

"And you're not?"

Draco faltered a bit. There had been a day when yes, he had been one hundred percent pure Slytherin, and not an ounce less. But with the death of his father, and his slowly developing feelings for a mudblood, he couldn't exactly consider himself a true blue Slytherin anymore. It was amazing how much that fact didn't bother him.

"I'm just saying, watch out for him," he said. "I'll see you later."

Before walking off, Draco grabbed a random potions book off the shelf for himself. He figured he might as well get a head start on the project to show up Harry.

He brought the book up to the front desk, where Madame Pince opened it and took out the library card. She stamped it, and then handed it to Draco. "Sign your name, please."

Draco grabbed the librarian's quill and began to sign his name, and then immediately stopped. He had glanced at the name signed above his, and his breathing had stopped. The last person to have signed the book out was Hermione Granger, just a little over two months ago.

"Is something wrong?" Madame Pince asked.

Draco cleared his throat and finished signing his name. "No," he replied, even though that answer couldn't have been further from the truth.

* * *

Draco made sure to arrive back to the Heads' Tower just a few minutes before seven, to avoid any awkward moments of hanging out with Hermione while they waited for their guests to arrive. But when he entered the common room, he saw that Hermione's guest had already arrived.

She and Blaise were sitting on the couch, their books strewn across the coffee table in front of them, laughing and seemingly having a grand old time.

Blaise looked up when Draco entered the room. He smirked and said, "Hey, Draco. You arrived just in time for me to leave."

"How unfortunate," Draco said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. But he wasn't being _entirely_ sarcastic. In a way, he wished he had come home sooner, to make sure that Blaise was on his best behavior, but it looked as though everything had gone all right between the two of them. Hermione even had a grin on her face.

"Well, I'm off," Blaise said to her, as he gathered up his books. "See you tomorrow."

Hermione nodded as Blaise stood up and walked over to Draco.

"Sorry we didn't get to hang out for very long," he said; this time _his_ voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Draco said nothing as Blaise brushed past him and let himself out of the common room.

"How did it go?" he asked Hermione, as soon as Blaise was gone.

"It went fine," Hermione replied. "More than fine, actually." She motioned toward all of the equipment on the table. Apparently, their potion was already made and in the process of maturing.

"Wow," Draco said. "And Blaise actually helped you?"

"Yes, he did. I think we have pretty much everything figured out. He said he had no problem finding the ingredients. How about you? How's yours coming along?"

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but a knock on the door interrupted him. "It's about time, Potter," he grumbled.

He walked over to the portrait hole and opened it. Sure enough, Harry was standing on the other side, but he did not have any books or supplies with him. It appeared as though all that he had brought with him was a grim look on his face.

"Potter, where is your stuff?" Draco demanded.

Harry glanced over Draco's shoulder, probably looking to see if he could spot Hermione in the common room. "Can I talk to you for a minute? Out here?"

Draco furrowed his brow and crossed his arms over his chest. He did not acknowledge Harry's question with a response.

"Please?" Harry insisted. "And close the door behind you."

Draco did not want to take any orders from Harry Potter, but he figured it would be in his best interest to abide if he ever wanted to get around to working on the project before the end of the evening. So he stepped out, closing the portrait hole behind him.

"What the hell is this about, Potter?"

Harry mirrored Draco's stance, folding his arms across his chest. A hard glare came over his features as he began to speak. "Have you talked to _her_ yet?"

Draco sighed in annoyance. "Dammit, Potter, I -"

"Because I'm refusing to work on this project with you until you do," Harry continued.

For a brief moment, Draco could almost see a resemblance between Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini. "Is that so?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. And if you care at all about your grade on this project, you'll talk to her."

Draco scoffed. "Potter, if you think for one second that this threat is going to work, you've got another thing coming. I actually _don't_ care at all about my grade. But let's pretend for one moment that I _do_ – in which case, I will just conduct this project by myself, and _you_ will be the one worrying about _your_ grade."

Harry's features softened a bit. After a moment, he said, "Okay, fine. I didn't actually believe my threat would work. I just…I'm not ready to go in there with her, okay? So if you could _please_ just talk to her tonight, find some stuff out…_anything_…"

"Then you'll get off my back?"

"Yes," Harry replied.

"You swear that if I talk to her – no matter what she ends up telling me – you will at least be able to exist in the same room as her? And you will shut the hell up about her to me?"

Harry nodded.

It seemed like a fair enough deal. "Okay. Fine. I will go in there right now, and I will talk to her. I will let you know tomorrow what I find out, and then we can do this project and then never speak a word to each other again. How does that sound?"

"It sounds like a deal," Harry said, holding out his hand to shake on it.

Draco narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't push it, Potter. Now get the hell out of my sight."

Harry did as he was told, seemingly satisfied with what had just transpired.

There was no time like the present. If it would get Harry off his case, Draco was willing to talk to Hermione until he was blue in the face.

So he went back inside, closing the portrait hole behind him.

"Who was at the door?" Hermione asked.

"It was just Pansy," he lied. "She wanted to borrow my notes from Transfiguration, but I reminded her that I don't _take_ notes during class."

Hermione smirked as she began pouring a bit of her potion into a flask.

"Listen, Granger, I was wondering if -"

Draco paused when he saw Hermione take a swig from the flask she had just filled. "Whoa, Granger, I don't think you should be drinking that just yet."

Hermione shrugged. "It's fine. I'm just testing it to make sure it has the right flavor."

"Veritaserum doesn't _have_ a flavor, Granger."

"But Blaise said -" Hermione stopped mid-sentence. A look of panic crept over her face.

"Granger?" Draco said cautiously. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied in a strained voice. She brought her hand up to her throat. "I think – is it supposed to…"

Suddenly, she began gasping for air.

"Granger," Draco said in a firm tone. When she responded only with a choking sound, he reacted swiftly, strolling over to her in a couple of quick strides, and picking her up into his arms.

He knew that something was terribly wrong. He wasn't sure _what_, exactly, but he wasn't going to wait around to try and figure it out. She needed medical attention, and she needed it _now._

He carried her all the way to the hospital wing, praying he wouldn't arrive too late.

* * *

Author's Note #2: So I just thought I would point out that I made up stuff about Veritaserum, since I couldn't find a whole lot of information on it in the Harry Potter Lexicon (such as how long it takes to mature), and just to warn you all, I plan to make up a bunch more stuff about other stuff in the next chapter. ;)  



	18. Revelations

**Author's Note:** Yay! People are still reading this story! Well, it's been only a week since I last updated, which is pretty good for me, considering it took me over a month to update last time. I'm going to try really, really hard to keep pumping out these chapters as quickly as I can, because I'm excited about the last few chapters, and I can't wait to finish the story. Thank you all once again for the reviews. XD 

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own anything.

* * *

"Okay, take a deep breath. Very good."

Draco glanced over at the girl sitting on the bed across from him. She looked fragile and weary, and exactly as though she had just suffered a near-death experience. Yet somehow, she appeared to be taking it a lot better than _he_ was.

They had arrived at the hospital wing only a couple of minutes before. By the time Draco had brought Hermione in, she was barely breathing and her lips had begun turning blue. Madame Pomfrey, although quite alarmed, had managed to calmly ask Draco what had happened. When he informed her that Hermione had taken a sip of a potion she had just finished putting together, Madame Pomfrey seemed to automatically know what to do. Quickly, she had run over to one of her cabinets and pulled out a vial filled with a clear liquid - a deflating draught - with which she filled some sort of bulb syringe. She had then carefully inserted it between Hermione's lips and squeezed it to release the antidote straight in through her mouth. As the antidote made its way to her throat, it magically deflated all of the swelling she had as it went down, resulting in her finally being able to breathe again – and allowing her natural color to return.

It wasn't until Hermione was able to take a nice, deep breath again that Draco realized he'd been holding his.

"You're a very lucky girl," Madame Pomfrey said to Hermione. "If you had arrived here a minute or two later, it might have been too late." She looked at Draco. "It's a good thing you were there."

"Yeah," he muttered.

Madame Pomfrey turned back to Hermione. "Now, my dear, what exactly were you doing ingesting _puffer fish eyes_?"

Hermione blinked in confusion. "I was making a potion for Potions class. Veritaserum."

"Goodness gracious!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed. "Puffer fish eyes are not used in Veritaserum!"

"I-I know they aren't," Hermione stammered. "At least, I think I know that. I don't remember putting them on my list."

"Your list?" Madame Pomfrey inquired.

Suddenly, Draco felt a chill travel up his spine. "She made up a list of ingredients for her partner to get for the project," he numbly informed the nurse.

"Oh. Well, you should probably let your partner know that puffer fish eyes do _not_ belong in Veritaserum potion!"

Draco's hand slowly began to form into a fist at his side. He was pretty sure Blaise Zabini didn't need to be told that.

"Is she going to be okay?" he asked.

Madame Pomfrey nodded. "She will be fine, as long as she's able to keep breathing normally." Turning to Hermione, she said, "How is your breathing?"

"It's fine," Hermione replied, taking a deep breath as if to prove it.

"Very well," the nurse said. "Regardless, I'm going to give you a small vial of Deflating Draught to keep with you just in case. Effects of swelling potions usually never linger after they are cured, nor do they return, but I'd rather be safe than sorry." She handed the vial to Hermione.

"Thank you very much," she said politely. "Am I free to leave now?"

"Of course," Madame Pomfrey replied. "But only if you promise me you will dispose of your potion as soon as you get back."

"I promise." Hermione smiled, and then turned to Draco. "Ready?"

Draco nodded as Hermione stood up from the bed. He followed her out of the infirmary, giving Madame Pomfrey an appreciative look as he left, not knowing for sure if she even noticed.

They began their trek back to their tower in complete silence, with Hermione walking a few feet in front of Draco. However, it wasn't long before she stopped walking and said, "I feel so stupid."

Draco halted in his steps, barely avoiding a collision with her. Taking a quick step back, he said, "Don't feel stupid, Granger. It could have happened to anyone."

Hermione shook her head as she began walking again. "How could I have been so foolish as to copy those ingredients down wrong? I should have been paying more attention. I must have copied from the wrong page."

"Granger, don't beat yourself up over this," Draco muttered as he followed her down the hall. "I'm sure it wasn't even your fault."

"Of course it was! I copied the information down wrong, and then -" She paused for a moment, then gasped. "What if _Blaise_ had tested the potion, not me? Or what if _neither_ of us had tested it before next week, and the _volunteer_ had drank it? Thank Merlin _I_ was the one who tested it out first…"

Draco shook his head in disbelief. Not only was she blaming herself for the whole mishap, but she was also relieved that she had been the one to nearly die from it. Her similarities to the real Hermione Granger were becoming more evident every day - she had always thought of everyone else's well being before her own.

He decided not to disagree with her. In fact, he decided not to say anything at all.

So they continued on their way in silence, until Hermione turned to him and said, "Thank you for…you know. For saving me." She shrugged. "I mean, I know you're not my biggest fan, so the fact that you helped me…well, I appreciate it."

"Yeah, well, I've already seen you die once. I wasn't about to do it again," Draco mumbled.

Hermione glanced over at him. "She really meant a lot to you, didn't she?" she asked softly.

When Draco failed to respond in anyway, she said, "You meant a lot to her too, you know."

Draco snorted. "And just how, exactly, would you know that?"

"I've read her journal. Remember?"

Draco's breath caught in his throat. He stared at the girl walking next to him, searching her face for any indication that she may have been lying. But he did not find any.

"I don't want to hear about it," he said quickly, even though it was a lie. "Whatever she wrote in that diary is none of my business, nor is it any of yours."

"Oh come on," she said with a slight hint of a smile. "You don't want to hear about how she -"

"No!" Draco snapped. "And I can't believe you're still reading it."

"I'm _not _still reading it," she said. "I finished it last night. I know I shouldn't have read it, but it was just so interesting to read her thoughts, because they were so close to my own."

He did not detect any shame or regret in her voice, but then why would he? While it was certainly wrong to read another person's personal thoughts, perhaps an exception could be made if that other person was just another version of you. Either way, he wanted nothing to do with it, regardless of how much he was dying to know what she had thought about him.

Finally they arrived back at their tower, where the knight in the portrait was thrilled to see that Hermione was alive and well. He greeted her warmly as she entered the portrait hole, and for once he didn't look at Draco with complete contempt. Draco figured his heroic gesture of rushing Hermione to the hospital wing probably earned him some points with the knight, who no doubt thought that Draco was a selfish bastard who only cared about himself.

When they entered the common room, Hermione began heading straight for her bedroom, but Draco stopped her.

"So why exactly did you test out that potion, anyway?" he asked her. "Because Blaise told you to?"

"He suggested it, yeah," Hermione replied. "He said that we would need to test it ourselves before we gave it to anyone else. He said I would know if it was okay if it had no flavor, and that if we had made it wrong, it would taste bitter. And he was right – it did taste bitter."

Draco could feel anger beginning to well up inside of him. "So then it was his idea?"

"I guess you could say that," Hermione said. She narrowed her eyes at him. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you were suggesting that Blaise had intentionally tried to poison me." She scoffed, as if it were ridiculous to even think it.

Her naivety was positively mind-boggling, yet endearing at the same time, because it was the same naivety that the _real_ Hermione Granger had possessed. She had always wanted to think the best about everyone, until she was given an absolute reason not to.

When Draco did not respond, Hermione sighed and said, "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning. Oh, and please don't tell Blaise about this, okay? I feel foolish enough about this already."

"I won't say a word," Draco lied. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she said with a smile. "And thank you again."

He nodded as she turned and headed up to her bedroom. As soon as she disappeared behind her door, he turned to the coffee table, where they had left everything earlier. The potion was still there, as were Hermione's schoolbooks. He picked up the potions book and flipped through it. When he found nothing in it, he went to place it back on the table and noticed a folded piece of parchment sticking out from beneath another book. He picked it up and unfolded it.

It was exactly what he had been looking for: Hermione's list of Veritaserum ingredients. He scanned the list from top to bottom, and just as he had suspected, nowhere on the list had she added puffer fish eyes.

Draco crumpled up the piece of parchment in his hand. The next morning, he would be paying a visit to Blaise Zabini.

* * *

In their fourth year at Hogwarts, a few of the Slytherins thought it would be funny to pull a prank on one of the other houses. When Pansy Parkinson caught wind of it, she suggested that they perform the prank on some unsuspecting Ravenclaws – including a girl whom she had overheard making a nasty remark about her in the girls' bathroom. The small group of Slytherin pranksters, made up of Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Blaise Zabini, were more than happy to prank absolutely _anyone_, so with Pansy's help they quickly devised a plan to get the girl and her friends back. Pansy said that since the Ravenclaw girl had such a "big mouth" in a figurative sense, perhaps the boys could make it more _literal_, with the help of some sort of swelling solution.

So Draco had come up with the idea of making a swelling solution, which they would then mix in with tubes of lip gloss. Somehow, they would find a way to replace the girls' lip gloss tubes with the tainted ones, and then sit back and enjoy the show as each and every girl rushed to the hospital wing in panic, with their grossly swollen lips. Since Draco had come up with the idea, he gave Crabbe and Goyle the task of switching the lip gloss tubes, and he gave Blaise the job of finding the ingredients and helping him make the potion. Blaise had had no problem obtaining the ingredients, which included puffer fish eyes, and he could easily identify each and every one.

This was the memory that kept running through Draco's mind as he waited patiently outside of the Slytherin tower early the next morning. So far, most of the students had left for the Great Hall, but Blaise still had yet to make an appearance.

When he did finally emerge, he saw Draco right away and smirked.

"Draco! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Remaining as calm as possible, Draco replied, "I was just reminiscing of the old days, when we used raise hell around here."

"Oh yeah?" Blaise said, arching an eyebrow. "Missing those good old days, are you?"

"Not really, Zabini. See, I've grown up quite a bit since those days. I like to think I'm a bit older and wiser than I used to be. How about you?"

"Well, I'm older," Blaise said with a chuckle. "So what exactly sent you on this path down memory lane?"

"Oh, I think you know," Draco said. "Played any good pranks recently?"

Blaise grinned. "I don't know. Why don't _you_ tell _me_?"

"She could have died," Draco said in a low voice.

Blaise snorted. "Who, Granger? So that's what this about? You mean she actually drank that potion?" He laughed. "Man, it was just a joke."

"_Just a joke_?" Draco spoke through clenched teeth. "How is nearly killing someone just a joke?"

"Oh don't be so melodramatic," Blaise said. "Is she dead? No. So then what is the big deal? If you want to get upset with anyone, get upset with _her _for being such an idiot. She trusted me – that was her own stupid fault."

"You're blaming _her_ for putting her trust in you? That's a good one, Zabini. All I can say is that you're lucky I was there to help her. Because if she had died, you wouldn't be so glib right about now."

"So you saved her life, then?" Blaise said. "I should have known you would save the day, you knight-in-shining-armor, you. So, what – you're falling in love with this one, too?"

Draco's blood turned cold in his veins and his breath hitched in his throat.

Noticing the look on Draco's face, Blaise burst out laughing. "What – you mean you weren't aware of the fact I knew about your feelings for Hermione Granger? Oh please, Draco– I wasn't stupid."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco said weakly. He didn't even sound convincing to _himself_.

"I had started to suspect it early on," Blaise said, "but it wasn't until the Yule Ball that it was confirmed. I watched you drool all over yourself when she showed up in that hot little dress, and then I watched you practically melt into her on the dance floor. Oh, and who could forget the look of pure rage on your face when Potter kissed her? You looked like you wanted to kill someone. Really, it couldn't have been any more obvious. It was so nauseating to watch."

Draco was at a loss for words. Part of him wanted to cuss at him, but he knew his defensiveness would give him away. Instead, he said, "You have no idea what you are talking about, Zabini. Granger and I were _roommates_. Perhaps we were even _friends_. But we were nothing more. But even if we _had_ been, I honestly would not have cared how nauseating you thought it was. And I am certainly not _falling for_ this Hermione Granger. Pardon me if I don't want to just sit back and watch you hurt someone who has done absolutely nothing to you. Do you not have any clue as to how much trouble you could get into for this?"

"It was an _accident_, Draco. Nobody would have suspected otherwise, if only the bitch had kept her mouth shut. I'm assuming she said I had told her to drink it?"

"Watch yourself, Zabini," Draco growled. "You'd be surprised at what people will suspect."

"I think I would have to disagree with that, Draco."

"Stay away from her," Draco warned.

"And just how am I supposed to do _that_?" Blaise said. "She's my Potion's partner."

"You will go back to doing what you normally do with projects like these – absolutely nothing. She will finish the project by herself, with no help from you. She will get you a good grade on it, which you will in no way deserve, in exchange for you staying the hell away from her. And if I see you so much as within ten feet from her, I will make you regret it. Do I make myself clear?"

"_Loud_ and clear," Blaise replied with a smirk.

Satisfied with his answer, Draco turned to go – but stopped at the next words that came out of Blaise's mouth.

"So you said that I would be surprised at what people will suspect. Do you mean like how you've probably suspected all this time that Granger died because of Potter?"

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. He spun around. "What the hell did you just say?"

Blaise folded his arms across his chest and casually leaned up against the wall. "You have suspected that all along, haven't you? I mean, it makes perfect sense, doesn't it? She was a friend of the almighty Harry Potter. Of course someone would want to harm someone close to him. It would be the ultimate way to weaken him, right? By permanently taking away someone he cared deeply for." He pushed himself off the wall and took a few steps closer to Draco. "But what I don't quite get, if that was true, is why didn't that Death Eater kill _Weasley_ instead? Surely he's been closer with Potter these past seven years than Granger ever was. Or better yet, why didn't he kill little Ginny Weasley – Harry Potter's _girlfriend_? Surely either one of those deaths would have affected him more than _Granger's_ death. So I wonder why he chose _her_?"

Draco did not like where this was heading, but he was too stunned to say anything. Too stunned to walk away.

"Did you ever stop and think that perhaps Hermione Granger's death had nothing to do with Harry Potter? That perhaps, her death had to do with something completely different? Or, rather, _someone_ completely different?"

And suddenly, it all began to dawn on Draco. The realization took his breath away. "You," he managed to sputter. "Zabini, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, Draco. It's what _you_ did. You fell in love with a _mudblood_. Did you have any idea what that was going to do to your family name? Or how crushed your mother would be when she found out? And your poor father – he was probably rolling in his grave -"

Without even a second thought, Draco lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of Blaise's robes and drove him up against the wall. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?" he screamed.

Blaise didn't even flinch. "I couldn't let it happen," he replied calmly. "You would have disgraced your family. You would have disgraced purebloods…and Slytherins. I couldn't let you do that. You were my best friend, Draco. Do you remember? We were both going to become Death Eaters someday. We were going to make our parents proud. It was our _dream_, Draco. A dream you forgot all about once you started playing house with the mudblood. I noticed the change in you. Crabbe and Goyle noticed it, and Pansy too. But they were all too stupid to figure it out – that we were losing you to the other side. But I wasn't going to lose you that easily, Draco. So I did something about it."

Draco tightened his grasp on Blaise's robes and pushed him further up against the wall. "You killed her," he hissed.

Blaise shook his head. "I merely informed a Death Eater of your relationship with her. What he did with that information was _his_ decision, and his alone. Although I must say, I think he did the right thing."

Instantly, Draco clamped his hand loosely around Blaise's throat. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I thought it was about time you knew," he replied, "that she died because of _you_."

Yanking him away from the wall, Draco delivered a punch to Blaise's face with all of the strength he had. He heard a sickening cracking sound that was most likely the sound of his nose breaking. A sharp pain shot up Draco's hand, but he ignored it.

"You son of a bitch!" he cried, punching him again.

That blow sent Blaise crumpling to the ground. He sat there for a moment, holding his hand over his bloodied nose. He looked up at Draco and said, "Beating the shit out of me is not going to bring her back. Nor is it going to protect the new one."

Draco responded by kicking him swiftly in the stomach, sending him sprawled out on his back against the floor. He bent down and leaned over him. He whipped out his wand and pointed it directly at the center of Blaise's chest. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

Blaise grinned a bloody grin, but he did not answer.

Draco wondered briefly how Blaise could be so calm and cool when his death was possibly only two simple words away, but he realized why when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

"What is going on here?"

Draco immediately lowered his wand and hung his head in defeat. He moved off of Blaise so that the boy could sit up.

Professor Dumbledore glanced at Blaise. "Go up to the hospital wing, Mr. Zabini," he ordered.

"Sir, Blaise -"

"Silence, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said calmly. He kept his hand on Draco's shoulder as Blaise slowly stood and began staggering away. Once Blaise had rounded the corner, Dumbledore released his hand from Draco, letting him stand up. "Now," he said, "Would you mind telling me what just happened?"

Draco shook his head. "It was just a friendly dispute, sir."

"You broke the young man's nose, Draco," Dumbledore said. "I can suspend you for that."

"You could," Draco said calmly. "But if he had just told _you_ what he told _me_, I think you would have broken his nose too."

"Enlighten me."

Leaving out the whole latter part of his conversation with Blaise, he simply told Dumbledore that Blaise had tried to poison Hermione with their potion the night before.

"That is a very serious accusation," Dumbledore said.

"Blaise knows exactly what puffer fish eyes look like. And he knows there is no such ingredient in Veritaserum. He fed some story to Hermione about how she needed to test it out. If you don't believe me, ask her. Hell, ask Blaise himself – he'll probably confess. He is a sick bastard, Professor."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at him. "Is there more to the story than you're telling me?"

"You have no idea," Draco mumbled. As he brushed past the Head Master, he added, "I'll save you the trouble of suspending me. I'm suspending myself."

* * *

Draco bumped into Hermione as she was exiting the Heads' tower. She cried out in surprise as she dropped her books all over the floor.

"You're going in the wrong direction," she said, as Draco bent down to pick up her books. "Classes are in the opposite direction."

"I'm not attending classes today," he muttered. "I'm not feeling so well."

"Are you sick?"

"Something like that," he replied, walking past her. "Oh, don't forget – we have patrol tonight. Be back here before eight."

Hermione nodded. "I hope you feel better," she said, before continuing on down the hall.

Draco doubted he'd be feeling better anytime soon.

This new revelation was slowly killing him inside. Deep down, he'd been feeling responsible for Hermione's death these past two months – but that was only because he'd been unable to protect her or save her. But knowing that his feelings for her were what led to her death – it was too much to handle. Blaise had known it would kill him. That's precisely why he had finally told him.

He walked into the common room, unsure of what he was going to do with his free time. All he really wanted to do was lie down and sleep away his time. But sleep was never an escape for him anymore, as he was usually plagued with nightmares about her. And with this new information, there was a good chance that Hermione would not only die in his next dream, but that he may very well be the one to kill her.

So he sat down on the couch and buried his face in his hands. He had no idea what he was going to do. He wasn't sure how much longer he could live here, in this common room – in this school. Suddenly, he could empathize with this new Hermione's desire to leave her own world. Right now, that idea sounded pretty good to him.

He sat back on the couch, intending to spend the next few minutes staring at the ceiling, but something on the table before him caught his eye: Hermione's journal. It had been set neatly onto the table, with a bookmark sticking out from the top – and a broken lock on the side. This hadn't been carelessly left out by his roommate. She had left it there specifically for him to read.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. This girl was persistent. It wouldn't matter how many times he told her he didn't want to read Hermione's journal – there was obviously something she wanted him to see.

The temptation was overwhelming. He considered putting forth his willpower and ignoring it, but he had been weakened so much by Blaise earlier that he gave up and gave in. What would be the harm in reading her journal? He had been responsible for her death. The crime of him reading her journal now somehow paled in comparison.

So he picked it up and carefully opened it to the bookmarked page. He took out the bookmark and placed it on the table. With a sigh and a last minute hesitation, he began to read.

_November 15th, 1997_

_Dear Diary,_

_The most extraordinary thing has happened. I was sitting across from Harry at breakfast this morning when I was suddenly hit with the realization that I am completely over him. That's right – completely and one hundred percent over him. I cannot tell you how relieved I was when it dawned on me. In fact, I couldn't stop grinning. Probably everyone at the table thought I was crazy, smiling at absolutely nothing. But I was just so happy. These past couple of years have been miserable for me, pining away after a boy who didn't want me. Watching him slowly fall in love with one of my best friends. But that is probably one of the worst things about love – not being able to turn it on or off at will. You love who you love until you love them no longer._

_That is why I suddenly feel as though a weight has been lifted from me. I feel free – free from these feelings that have been plaguing me for years. I no longer have to worry about ruining my friendship with Harry – because I am perfectly happy with the fact that friendship is all we will ever have. This has truly been a wonderful day, dear diary._

_Except, of course, for the fact that while I am over Harry Potter, I have managed to fall for someone else who is just as equally unattainable. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Why can't I develop feelings for someone who would be likely to return them? Someone like…Neville. He's such a nice boy, and I'm pretty sure he likes me at least a little bit. If only I could develop some genuine feelings for him. But no, I have to fall for Draco Malfoy, who is an insufferable git – and who hates my guts. He would never be interested in me – just like Harry never would be. I'm just a boring, know-it-all, unattractive mudblood. Why do I even bother to like boys in the first place? I'm Hermione Granger! I love schoolwork! I should be putting that above all else. In fact, I think I'll go spend some time with my schoolwork right now – especially since Malfoy just walked through the door._

_Ugh, he just gave me that look he gives me whenever he sees me writing in this thing. If only he knew the things I've written about him in here. Oh, I can't even bear to think of that happening. I would just die._

Draco gently closed the journal, but continued to stare at it in disbelief. Amazingly enough, he thought he might have remembered this very day. He remembered spotting her from across the Great Hall, seeing her with a big smile directed at Harry, and interpreting it as a sign of her affection for him. But it had been the complete opposite!

And not only that, but…she had developed feelings for him? In as early as November? How could he have missed it? How could he possibly have not known she felt that way about him? It made no sense.

But it actually _did _make sense. She had been in love with Harry for years, and he had missed it too. The only difference between Draco and Harry was the fact that Draco had actually _returned_ the feelings. And she'd had no idea. She thought he could never possibly love her.

This revelation should have made him happy – to know that she had loved him back. But instead, it broke his heart into a million pieces to know that if only he had revealed his feelings for her, they could have been together, and perhaps she never would have died. They could have run away together – somewhere no one would have been able to find them – another world, perhaps. If this new Hermione could have escaped_ her_ world, perhaps _they_ would have been able to escape _theirs_. He would have done it – and without a moment's hesitation. He would have done anything for her.

But now it was too late.

He set the diary back down on the table. He didn't want to read anymore.

* * *


	19. Alone

**Author's Note:** Another quick update. I was hoping to have this done by the end of the week, but it happened a little sooner than expected. Enjoy!

Oh yes, and thanks once again to all of you who have reviewed, and who have offered me cookies! You all are what keeps me going with this. :)

**Disclaimer: **Izeebella said in her review for my last chapter that she was going to try and buy me Harry Potter for my birthday so that I don't have to have any more disclaimers in my chapters. I wonder how much JK Rowling is charging for him:P

* * *

Draco tried all morning to take his mind off of everything. He tried reading a book, but he couldn't keep his concentration on it long enough to comprehend any of the words. He tried taking a nap, but his effort was fruitless, due to the fact there was too much going on in his head. At one point, he even began flipping through his potions book – the one Hermione had last signed out – looking for any sort of reminder that it had been in her possession. He found nothing, although he wasn't exactly sure what he had been expecting to find. Little hearts with the words _HG & DM_ _Forever_ sketched out in ink? That thought was preposterous. Hermione Granger desecrating school property was about as likely as Crabbe and Goyle _not_ desecrating school property. 

After placing his potions book back on the table, his gaze rested upon the journal. He was dying to read more, but it just didn't feel right to him. He'd already read enough to know how she'd begun to feel about him. He didn't have any need to read any earlier entries, where she most likely complained about how much of a git he'd been to her – and not to mention, she'd probably written plenty of entries about how great Harry Potter was.

Nevertheless, he felt himself being drawn to the journal. Slowly, his hand reached out until it came into contact with the smooth cover. He was about to open it up when he heard a knock at the door.

He wondered who would be visiting him during classes, but then figured it was probably Dumbledore, coming to reprimand him for bashing in Blaise's face.

But when he opened the portrait hole, it was not Dumbledore who stood on the other side – it was Pansy.

"Pansy," he said, unable to hide his surprise. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Yes," she replied. "May I come in?"

"Uh, sure," he said, stepping aside to let her through.

She looked upset, as if she'd been crying. He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but she beat him to it.

"Blaise is in trouble," she said. "Did he really try to poison that Granger girl?"

"He didn't _try_," Draco replied, "he _did_."

Pansy nodded. "That's what I figured. He didn't come right out and confess to me, but I could sense it. Dumbledore has him under house arrest until it's proven whether or not he _intentionally_ poisoned her. Why would he do something like this?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm sure he had his reasons."

Pansy crossed her arms tightly over her chest and sniffled. "Well, whatever his reason was, I'm sure it was not worth getting expelled for. That was really stupid of him."

"I couldn't agree more," Draco muttered.

"He's not talking about it," Pansy continued, "but you're the one who broke his nose, aren't you?"

"That is correct."

"Well, you did a bang-up job." She paused and smiled slightly at her pun, but then her smile quickly faded as she went on: "Draco, he's angry – _really_ angry. I think he may try to hurt her again."

Draco groaned. "What the hell is wrong with that guy?" he muttered to himself, then said, "But how can he, if he's under house arrest? He won't even be able to leave the Slytherin tower without Dumbledore knowing about it."

"Draco, you and I both know that if Blaise Zabini wants something done, he does it. And if he can't do it himself, then he'll get someone _else_ to do it for him."

"Crabbe and Goyle," Draco said. Pansy nodded.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "Why are you telling me all of this? I would think you of all people would want to see Granger get hurt."

Pansy looked as though she had just been slapped in the face. "Look, Draco, I don't know how much of an evil bitch you think I am, but you obviously overestimate me. I'm the _last_ person in the world would wish the wrath of Blaise Zabini on _any_ girl – even Hermione Granger. Or, rather, Hermione Granger's double." She paused, and then said softly, "I'm on _your_ side."

Draco couldn't help but scoff at that. "Oh really? Because I was unaware that I _had_ a side."

"Well, you do," she said. "And I'm on it."

"Why? Why would _you_ of all people be on _my_ side?"

"Because Blaise is an evil bastard. And because -" She stopped, as if debating on whether or not to continue. "And because I care about you."

Draco was taken aback by both admissions, especially the first one. Blaise and Pansy had an on-again, off-again relationship that had started around the time of the Yule Ball. When they were "off-again", that's when Pansy would return to Draco to try and seduce him – to no avail, of course. Still, he figured she would have stuck by Blaise under the circumstances – the circumstances being that Draco was obviously not interested in her.

And as for the fact that she cared about him, well…he wasn't exactly sure why she still would.

He had no idea what to say. He wasn't used to seeing this side of Pansy.

"I've cared about you for a long time," she said. "You know that. And there was a time where I think I was actually in love with you. But you never loved me back. And it hurt, but I was okay with it, you know? Because you paid attention to me, and that's all I ever really wanted. But then…then earlier this year, you changed. At first, nobody seemed to know why. I had my suspicions, but I didn't want them to be right, so I just ignored them. But when I returned from Christmas break, I noticed even more of a change in you, and you became even more distant from us, and that's when I knew."

"Pansy," Draco interjected. He wasn't sure he wanted her to finish what she was saying.

"You were in love with Hermione Granger all along," she continued, trying desperately to hold back a sob. "I'm not dumb, Draco, nor am I blind. When I came back from break and heard about her death…I could see how much it affected you. You looked like you had lost the most important thing in your life. And I guess you had."

He wasn't about to deny it. There was no point in doing that, anyway – she would know he was lying. So he sighed and said, "You're right."

"It killed me, Draco. It killed me because part of me wanted to hate you for having loved her, but another part of me wanted to comfort you. I loathed Granger, but I never would have wished death on her. Especially if her death was going to cause you such pain. And I just want you to know that…that I'm sorry it happened. And I'm sorry that you've been going through this whole thing alone. I should have been there for you…"

"Pansy," he said again. "You don't owe me any sort of apology."

"But I do!" she exclaimed. "I've been a terrible friend to you, and you did nothing to deserve that. So I'm just letting you know now that if you ever need someone to talk to…"

Draco studied the girl standing before him. Was this the same Pansy Parkinson he had known for the past seven years? The same one who would pout and throw a tantrum when he would occasionally deny her advances? It seemed odd to him that she would be standing before him, offering him a hand in friendship. Still, he appreciated the gesture. It had been so long since he'd had a friend, and these days it would probably be nice to have someone to talk to.

"Thanks, Pansy," he said. "That means a lot to me. Now, I'd better go warn Granger."

"Oh, I've already warned her," Pansy said.

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "_You_ warned her?"

"Yeah. I thought she should know. It went surprisingly well. I had expected her to be wary of me, but she didn't seem to be. She thanked me for telling her…though, I'm not sure if she believed me or not, so you'd better warn her, too. She'll probably listen to you more." Pansy paused for a moment, then said, "It was weird. When I approached her, she seemed to almost welcome me right off. Almost as if…I don't know, almost as if maybe I wasn't such a bitch to her in her world."

For some reason, this really didn't surprise Draco at all. This Hermione had acted the exact same way with him – and with Blaise, for that matter. In fact, she'd seemed perfectly fine around everyone but Harry Potter.

"Anyway," Pansy continued, "I'd better get going. I can't really afford to miss my next class. Take care, Draco."

Draco nodded in response as she turned to go. He glanced back down at the journal on the table and sighed. He wouldn't have enough time to read any of it right now – it would have to wait for later. Right now, he would have to go warn Granger.

Luckily, by the time he left his tower, the bell was ringing, indicating that class had just gotten over. He racked his brain, trying to remember what class Hermione would have just had. Figuring it was probably Herbology, he rushed down to Professor Sprout's classroom, hoping that Hermione was still in the vicinity. By the time he got there, most of the students were already piled out of the classroom, but when Draco glanced inside, he could see her talking to Professor Sprout.

So he leaned up against the wall, right next to the door, so that he could catch her the moment she came out.

About a minute later, she exited the classroom, and Draco immediately reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Hey!" she protested, yanking her arm away. When she saw that it was Draco that had apprehended her, she softened and said, "Oh, hey. What are you doing here? Are you feeling better?"

"Not really," he replied. "Look, Granger, you'd better come home right after classes get over."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Does this have anything to do with what Pansy warned me about?"

"It has _everything_ do to with that. It's not safe for you to be roaming the halls by yourself when there are no professors or other students around."

"Well, I have plans tonight," she said. "Ginny invited me to go to Hogsmeade with her -"

"You're not going," Draco said.

"Actually, I _am_ going," she said. "Don't worry, I'll be back in plenty of time to go patrolling."

"Don't make me have to follow you around, Granger."

"I'm not making you do _anything_!" she cried. "Why are you suddenly so concerned about my well-being, anyway?"

"Who said I _was_?" Draco said defensively. "But the better question here is why _you_ aren't concerned about your well-being. Didn't Pansy tell you that Blaise might try and do something to you again?"

"Yes, she told me, but I'm not worried. I'll be with Ginny and Luna the whole time – and possibly Ron as well. I will even have them walk me back to the Heads' tower afterwards."

"You think a couple of Weasleys and Looney Lovegood will be able to protect you from _anything_?" he said. "They weren't able to protect _our_ Hermione – and neither was Harry. _I _couldn't protect her, either. So I wouldn't be feeling so secure with them as your bodyguards, if I were you."

Hermione shook her head. "This is completely different, Malfoy, and you know it. Your Hermione was attacked by a powerful Death Eater. We're talking about a couple of boneheaded thugs who don't have an entire brain between the two of them. I think we can handle them if they try anything. We could even handle Blaise if we had to. But I can't spend the remainder of my time here in fear that someone is going to attack me, because it may not ever happen." She sighed. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but…well, I really want to hang out with them tonight. They have been so kind and welcoming to me. It feels kind of nice to have some friends."

She glanced down at the floor. Draco stared at her. She looked fragile and…well, unhappy. And judging from the tone in her voice, she _wasn't_ happy. She sounded almost as if it had been quite awhile since she'd had a friend.

"Okay, fine," he said with a sigh. "Do whatever you'd like with them. But be back before _seven_, or else I'm coming to look for you."

She smiled. "You sound like my father. But okay. I'll be back by seven."

"You'd better be," he warned.

She turned on her heel and continued on down the hallway, stopping at one point to wave and say, "See you."

Draco did not respond. He just turned around and headed back to the Heads' Tower.

* * *

He didn't start to worry until about quarter to eight. 

Hermione still had not returned. At first, Draco didn't worry because he figured that she was just running a bit late, or that she had forgotten that she was supposed to return by seven, instead of eight, like the plan had originally been. But when she had still failed to show up a few minutes after eight, he set out to look for her.

Grabbing his wand, he exited the portrait hole. Already, the hallways were empty, though the lanterns still burned brightly on the walls. Ignoring the greeting from the knight in the portrait, he set forth down the hallway with fierce determination of beating Crabbe and Goyle senseless if he were to stumble upon any sort of troubling situation along the way. He recalled the time months ago when he happened to stumble upon them attacking the _real_ Hermione, and he remembered how angry he had been at them, and how much he'd wanted to hurt them. He prayed that history would not repeat itself.

However, he only made it down to the end of the hallway before Hermione came running around the corner, nearly crashing into him.

"Oh!" she cried out, startled. She sounded out of breath, and looked disoriented.

"Granger," he snapped. "Where the hell have you been?"

He regretted using an irate tone with her, because he _was_ relieved to see her. But his automatic reaction was to scold her.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said. She reached into her robes and pulled out her wand. "Are you ready to patrol?"

He stared at her in disbelief. She had completely dismissed the fact that she had been over an hour late, and figured a simple sorry would suffice. Didn't she figure he would have been concerned?

"Where were you?" he asked again.

Hermione furrowed her brow. "I…I don't know."

"You _don't know_?"

"Yeah, I honestly have no idea."

Draco snorted. "If you're going to lie, Granger, then at least make something up. A simple 'I don't know' just doesn't cut it."

"_I don't know_, okay?" she said loudly. There was genuine frustration in her voice. "The last thing I remember was coming back here, then realizing that I'd left one of my notebooks back at the Gryffindor common room, so I started to go back and..." her voice trailed off.

"And what?" He looked down at her hands, which were both empty, save her wand. "Where is the notebook?"

"I-I don't think I ever made it back there."

Now _Draco_ was feeling frustrated. "You don't _think_? Granger, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" she sobbed. "I must have blacked out or something. I just all of a sudden found myself standing in one of the hallways on the seventh floor, near the Gryffindor tower. But I was so freaked out that I couldn't remember anything, and I knew I was late meeting you, so I just ran back here as quickly as I could."

Draco couldn't tell whether or not she was lying, but she was very convincing – she seemed genuinely confused. Maybe she had come into contact with Crabbe and Goyle, and they had done something to her and had covered it up with some sort of befuddlement draught. But that was unlikely. If they had done something to her, they would have wanted her to remember it.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I mean, do you think it was possible that -"

"That someone attacked me and I just forgot?" Hermione finished for him. "No, not really. I feel fine, just a bit confused. I probably just passed out or something."

"Should we go see Madame Pomfrey?"

"Nah," she said. She dried her eyes quickly with a shaky hand. "I'll be fine. I'm just so sorry that I'm late. I hope you didn't worry."

"Not at all," Draco lied.

For the next couple of hours, they patrolled – mostly in silence, although they did address the whole issue of Hermione losing her Potions partner. Draco assured her that she would have a potion to pass in the next week, even if he had to make it for her himself. After their conversation, he made a mental note to find Harry the next day so they could start _their_ potion.

Of course, Harry would probably rebuff him, due to the fact that he still hadn't had "the talk" with Hermione. But in Draco's defense, since Harry had given him the ultimatum the day before, Hermione had nearly died, and then she'd been off with friends. That hadn't left him a whole lot of time to talk with her. Granted, patrolling would have been the perfect opportunity to spark up a conversation, but she still seemed upset over her lack of memory, so he decided not to bother her.

So once again, he would have to put it off.

When they returned to the common room later that night, Hermione glanced down at the journal on the table as she passed it on the way to her bedroom. Draco saw her give him a curious look, as if she was wondering if he'd actually read any of it. Thankfully, she did not ask him. She simply said, "Goodnight," and headed off to bed.

Resisting all urges to pick the journal up and read it, he went to bed himself.

* * *

"You're so far away," she said, although she was standing right beside him. But he knew what she meant, and she was right. In many ways, she was light-years away. 

He sighed. "We need to stop meeting like this."

"You don't want to see me anymore?" she asked with a pout.

"Of course I do," he said. "But not like this. You're not really here."

She frowned. "If I'm not really here right now, then how is it that I am talking to you? How is it that I can touch you?" She reached out to place her hand on his, but it went right through him. She stared down at her hand in confusion. "This makes no sense."

"It makes perfect sense," he said, moving away from her. "You're not here. You're not real. You're just a figment of my imagination, and I want you gone."

"No!" she cried. She took a step closer to him and reached out once again, as if to embrace him. But once again, she could not touch him. "Please don't do this. I don't want to be alone."

"Well, I don't want to be alone, either," he said. "But sometimes we are not given a choice in the matter."

She sobbed, and it broke his heart.

"Please," she pleaded. "I need you."

He shook his head. "You don't need me. I have failed you. I have failed you in so many ways, and there is nothing I can do now to help you. You need to go."

"No," she said, shaking her head. She was sobbing uncontrollably now. She didn't even notice the hooded figure that had appeared behind her.

Draco closed his eyes tightly and turned around. He wouldn't watch her die this time. Even when she screamed his name, he refused to acknowledge her. When silence soon followed, he reopened his eyes and turned back around. She was gone, as was the hooded figure. He was alone.

But then he heard the screaming. He heard the cry for help. And he awoke.

* * *

Draco's eyes flew open. He sat up in his bed and glanced around the dark room. He'd heard screaming, but he wasn't sure if it had just been in his dream, or not. But when he heard the scream again a few seconds later, he knew something was wrong. He recognized the scream as Hermione's. 

He jumped out of bed and blindly reached for his wand on the nightstand. "_Lumos_," he said, and the wand lit up. Now that he could see, he rushed over to his door and threw it open and headed straight for Hermione's room.

"Granger?" he called out. He turned the doorknob, but the door was locked. "Granger!" he yelled again, but there was no answer.

He pointed his wand at the door and yelled, "_Alohomora_!" He then proceeded to kick the door open.

He rushed inside. From what he could see with just a bit of moonlight pouring in from the window, Hermione was pinned down to the floor by what looked like a hooded figure.

"Hey!" he shouted, but the hooded figure did not react.

"Get away from her!" he cried. How the hell did someone get into their common room? And just _who_ the hell was it?

He reached out to grab the man in the cloak, but quickly recoiled - ice had begun to form on his hand. Shaking slightly, he held out his lighted wand closer to the figure and gasped.

"What the _hell?_" he muttered. He was looking at a Dementor.

Hermione remained perfectly still on the floor, staring up in horror as the Dementor appeared to be sucking the life right out of her.

Without hesitation, Draco pointed his wand at the Dementor and said, with all of his might, "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

Instantly, a bright, silvery light emerged from the tip of his wand and hit the Dementor, knocking it off of Hermione. He expected the Dementor to just fly out the window, but it didn't. Instead, some sort of portal opened up behind it, and sucked the creature right in. Once the Dementor had disappeared, it closed right back up and Draco and Hermione were left alone in the dark room.

Despite the shock he was still feeling, he managed to kneel down beside Hermione, who was now sitting up and coughing.

"What he hell," he said slowly, "was a _Dementor_ doing in here?"

She did not answer him. She did not even look at him.

He stood up and stared down at her. He held out a hand, which she took, and he pulled her to her feet.

"That's it, Granger," he said, silently willing his heartbeat to return to normal. "You and I need to talk – right now."

* * *


	20. The Coming Storm

**Author's Note: **Bwahaha! I'm getting faster with my updates, aren't I? I do believe the fan fiction fairy has been visiting me in my sleep. :) Anyway...kind of a short chapter, BUT - short chapters quicker updates. Am I right? Of course I am. THANK YOU once again to everyone who read and/or reviewed. You're probably sick of me thanking you all at the beginning of every chapter, but honestly - I can't thank you all enough.

**Disclaimer:** While all of the names, characters, and places belong to JK Rowling...um...other-world Hermione belongs to me! Heh. I'm not sure if that's a good thing, or a bad thing...

* * *

"Granger? Are you going to answer me? What was a Dementor – one apparently from _your_ world – doing in your bedroom?" 

Hermione sat down at the edge of her bed and buried her face in her hands. "I don't know," she sobbed.

Draco groaned. "You know, Granger, I'm getting a little sick and tired of hearing you say _'I don't know'_, because I think you _do_ know. You just don't want to tell me."

Her hands fell away from her face and she stared up at him with glazed eyes. She looked pale, weak, and very upset. For a brief moment, Draco wanted to reach out and provide any sort of comfort – a gentle pat on the shoulder, or even a hug – but his desire to know what the hell was going on prevented him from doing so.

"I probably violated some law in my world by leaving it," she said. "The spell I used was a powerful one."

"Okay," Draco said. "That makes a little bit of sense. But why would they send _Dementors_ after you? And how did they even find you?"

Hermione's face dissolved into a sudden look of panic. "Oh no."

"What?"

"Oh gods," she muttered. She stood up and began pacing the floor. "They must have found out who helped me!"

"Someone helped you?"

"He's probably in trouble for helping me!" she cried. "What if -" She gasped. "What if they gave him The Kiss? What if -"

She didn't finish her sentence. She just knelt down on the floor and began sobbing.

"Granger, calm down -"

"I need to go back!" she cried.

"Go back _where_?"

"Back to _my_ world!" she said frantically.

"How would you?" Draco asked. "You told us that you have no way of getting back to your world. And what would you even do when you got there? There are probably more Dementors waiting for you there -"

"Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…" Hermione stood up and glanced around the room furiously. "What can I do? There's got to be something I can do. This can't be happening, it can't be-"

"Granger," Draco said firmly. He grabbed both of her shoulders and held her out at arm's length. He stared into her eyes, which were wide and full of fear, and which refused to stare back. "Get a hold of yourself, okay? You need to calm down, so that we can go tell Dumbledore about this -"

"No!" she said, wriggling out of his grasp. "No, we're not going to get anyone else involved in this."

"The hell we aren't, Granger. A _Dementor_ just came through a portal and tried to kiss you. There will probably be more, if we don't do something to try and stop them. Dumbledore will be able to help us."

Hermione shook her head. "Please – no."

"Granger, either I go to Dumbledore about this right now, or you tell me what the hell is going on with you. The choice is yours."

She glanced up at him. "Can we just pretend like this never happened instead?"

Draco stared at her in disbelief. What was wrong with this girl? If a Dementor had attacked _him_, he would have wanted to do everything to ensure that it didn't happen again. So why was Hermione so afraid of doing just that?

He should have tried to convince her to get Dumbledore involved. He should have gone to get Dumbledore himself. But he did neither. Suddenly, he no longer felt like helping her, because it was becoming more and more apparent that she didn't _want_ to be helped.

"Fine," he said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Fine, if you're not going to worry about this, then neither am I." And with that, he turned around and stormed out of her bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

He never thought it would be possible, but this girl actually managed to be even _more_ infuriating than the _real _Hermione Granger. And if she wasn't careful, her pigheadedness would be the death of her.

Having no desire to go back to bed, Draco instead retreated to the common room. He half-expected Hermione to follow him and proceed to unload all of her secrets on him in an act of desperation – but she did no such thing.

Which was just as well. He didn't want her around for what he was about to do.

Grabbing his quill and a piece of parchment from the table, he sat down on the couch and began to write:

_Potter –_

_Meet me at the Astronomy Tower as soon as you get this. There is something important we need to discuss. Come alone._

_–M._

In the morning, he would have his owl deliver the note to Harry during breakfast. He wasn't exactly sure if it was a good idea, getting Harry involved. He knew he should have just gone straight to Dumbledore, but perhaps now was not the right time. Harry was the only other person who hadn't welcomed Hermione with open arms, so he couldn't help but think of him as somewhat of an ally – as much as he hated to admit it.

He folded up the piece of parchment and tucked it into the pocket of his robes, which were draped over the side of the couch.

Then, with a defeated sigh, he found himself back at Hermione's bedroom door. He did not knock first. He did not tell her he was coming in. He simply opened the door and entered the room. She was still in the same spot she had been when he'd left – sitting on the edge of her bed, her face streaked with tears, looking miserable. When she heard him come in, she glanced up at him, but she did not say a word.

"I'm sleeping in here tonight," he said simply, taking a seat in the small armchair that sat in the corner in the room.

She nodded. She understood – perhaps even more than _he_ did. Because while he was frustrated with her, he certainly wasn't going to let anything happen to her. And if she wouldn't let him go to Dumbledore for protection, he would provide it himself.

Despite the lack of comfort of the chair, he did manage to fall asleep again that night. Hermione never woke him up with a call for help, so he managed to sleep uninterrupted through the rest of the night.

And he did not dream.

* * *

Draco stood at the large window at the top of the Astronomy tower and stared out at the beautiful view. The sun was shining brightly, reflecting off the slowly melting snow on the ground below. From atop the tower, it almost seemed as though he could see forever. He imagined what the sunrise would look like from where he was standing – and how he probably would have brought Hermione up there one day to see it. At the reminder that that day would never come, Draco closed his eyes and frowned. 

He did not realize that Harry had arrived until he heard him clear his throat. Draco spun around to see the raven-haired boy standing there, stone-faced, holding up a piece of parchment.

"I got your note," he said. "Did you find something out?"

Draco turned back around and glanced out the window once more. Despite the bright sun rays and the blue sky, he could see dark clouds looming in the far distance, as if a storm was soon approaching.

"Listen, Potter," he said, glancing over his shoulder at him. "I don't know why I asked you to come here – _you_ of all people – but I did. And now that you're here, I need you to make me a promise. I need you to _swear_ to me that _everything_ that is said between us _stays_ between us. You got that? That means you don't tell the Weasleys, you don't tell Dumbledore – you tell _no one_."

"I swear," Harry said, without a moment's hesitation. He held out his hand.

Draco took his hand and firmly shook it. He wondered briefly if he should be putting his trust into Harry Potter. But then he had to admit to himself that despite the fact he hated Harry Potter with every fiber of his being, he was probably the one person in this world that he would trust with his life. That is, if Harry actually gave a damn about Draco's life.

"So?" Harry said anxiously. "What did you find out?"

Draco took a deep breath before responding. "She's not telling me anything."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "That's why you wanted to see me? To tell me you know nothing?"

Draco scowled. "Of course not, Potter. Something happened last night. Something I can't explain – and something I think _she _can. But she refuses to."

That peaked Harry's interest. "Oh really? What happened?"

"She was attacked," Draco replied, "by a _Dementor_. In her own bedroom."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You're kidding!"

Draco shook his head. "Her cry for help woke me up. I got there just in time, before it could give her the Kiss. But that isn't even the strangest part. The Dementor had come from _her_ world. Through some sort of portal."

"Wow," Harry breathed. "And she couldn't explain why?"

"She said something about how she must have broken some law in her world that prohibits _leaving_ it."

"And you bought that explanation?"

"Not really," Draco said.

"I knew it," Harry mumbled. "I _knew_ there was something strange about her."

Draco folded his arms and said, "And why exactly _is_ that, Potter? Why have you been the only one out of your little group to not welcome her with open arms?"

"I don't think you need to ask that," Harry mumbled. "My reason is the exact same as yours."

"Because she's not _our_ Hermione Granger."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "But that's not the only reason. I've just sensed that there is something _off_ about her since the minute I saw her. I mean, who _leaves_ their world, just because someone is after them? I'm sure there were plenty of ways to protect her in her own world, without having to ship her off to a whole other dimension. So why would she take such desperate measures? It doesn't make any sense."

Draco shrugged. "Well, Potter, we don't know the whole story, obviously, so who knows what kind of previous precautions she took before coming here? For all we know, she might have exhausted all possible ways to protect herself. Maybe the people who are after her are not only dangerous, but powerful as well – powerful enough to break any sort of protection spell. The fact is, Potter, we're never going to find out the whole story until she decides to tell us. And that might never happen."

"Or, it might happen sooner than you think," Harry said, a grin forming on his face.

Draco narrowed his eyes at him. "And what does that mean, exactly?"

"There is a simple way to get the information that we need, Malfoy – and it's due next Friday."

Draco's face fell. "Wait a second, Potter, you don't mean-"

"Our Potions project," Harry said with a nod. "I took it upon myself to start making it last night, figuring if I waited for you to talk to Hermione first, we might never get it done."

"You're not serious…are you?"

"You have no idea just how serious I am."

Draco shook his head. "Potter, do I have to remind you of what happened the _last_ time somebody made her drink a homemade truth potion? She almost _died_."

"Oh, don't worry," Harry said. "I fully intend to test it on myself first. After all, I'll want to know it's working properly."

"Are you _daft_?" Draco stared at the boy in front of him, and all he could see was unbridled determination. Of course he would try something stupid like that – desperate times called for desperate measures. "We can't just use Veritaserum as we please. We could get into some serious trouble -"

Harry glanced at him sideways. "Since when has Draco Malfoy ever worried about getting into trouble?"

He had a good point there. Of course Draco didn't really care whether or not he got into trouble – he just didn't think it would be right to essentially _drug_ an innocent girl to get information out of her – that is, if she even _had_ any information to give.

"Potter, has it ever occurred to you that perhaps there is nothing else for Granger to tell us? That perhaps everything she has told us is the truth?"

"Hey, _you're_ the one who invited _me_ here because of what you witnessed last night, with the Dementor. You suspect she's not being honest with everyone as well. So what's your problem?"

"I just don't think it would be fair to her." It sounded foolish even to _him _as he said it. Why was he even thinking of what was fair to _her_, when _she_ had been the one to arrive in _their_ world and turn _their_ lives upside down – with no warning or authorization?

Groaning, he said, "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Harry smirked. "I'm going to need your help."

"No way, Potter. I'm not going to help you do _anything_."

"You have to," Harry said. "I can't do this alone. You've seen the way she is around me. She's fine around _you_ – and she won't suspect anything when she receives a drink from you. A drink that will be laced with Veritaserum."

"Okay," Draco said slowly. "So after we do this, and after we find out the truth – which probably is nothing earth-shattering anyway – will you finally give in and just accept her?"

Harry's smirk faded. In a stiff voice he said, "I will _never_ accept her."

Draco did not need to ask why – because he already knew the answer himself. "Because she's not _her_."

Harry nodded and looked away. "She can look like Hermione all she wants. She can walk like her, talk like her, but she will never _be_ her."

"Nobody can replace Hermione Granger," Draco muttered. "Not even herself." He smiled slightly at the absurdity of that statement.

Harry glanced over at him with narrowed eyes. A half-smile began to form at the edge of his mouth. "Draco Malfoy and I actually agree on something. Who ever thought _that_ would happen?"

"And who ever thought that what we agreed on would be our feelings for Hermione Granger?"

Both of their smiles vanished instantly. Harry became stone-faced, and Draco immediately regretted speaking the words. Luckily, Harry chose to ignore them.

"Four days from now," he said, turning around and heading towards the tower's exit, "the potion will be ready." He turned back around to face Draco. "Just make sure _you _are."

Draco did not respond. He watched Harry leave, and when he was gone, he turned back around to stare out the window.

Four days. Only four days, and then they would have the truth they had been looking for. But did it really even matter? What would come of it? Would they think any different of her? Maybe some things were best left unsaid. Maybe they'd be better off not knowing anything about her past in another world.

Draco sighed. The view outside the window was not so beautiful anymore. The sun had gotten behind some clouds, causing the world outside to turn a dismal gray. The dark, luminous clouds that had been so far in the distance just minutes before, were now quickly making their way toward the castle.

There was no doubt about it: a storm was on the way.

* * *


	21. Truth

**Author's Note: **Due to the fact I've been updating more quickly than usual, I fear that my chapters are coming out kind of rushed. I really hope that's not the case. I'm just really anxious to finish this story, because I'm actually enjoying writing it at the moment. :D

**Disclaimer: **I'm getting kind of sick of seeing these disclaimers, too. :P

* * *

The next four days seemed to go by so slowly. 

Strangely enough, Draco's dreams had stopped completely. He blamed it on the fact he was sleeping lightly, in fear of there being another Dementor attack. But there was none. It was beginning to appear as thought it had been a one-time-only thing.

He never brought it up again to Hermione, granting her request of pretending like it had never happened. And he didn't go to Dumbledore, though he had wanted to on many occasions. And he followed her, as inconspicuously as he could, after every class to make sure she was safe. It was not a pleasant job, but it wasn't like he really had anything better to do.

During the week, Harry kept him updated on the status of their potion. By late Saturday night, he had tested it on himself and said it worked fine, and that they would be using it on Hermione on Sunday. His throat hadn't closed up, so that was a good sign.

When Draco had woken up Sunday morning, Hermione was already gone. He had a feeling she was already off with Ginny, which was good for him, because he didn't really feel like seeing her before he was to betray her trust just a few hours later.

In the couple of hours before he was to leave, he wanted something to take his mind off of _new_ Hermione, so Draco did the one thing he promised himself he would not do again: he began reading more of _real_ Hermione's journal. Deciding it would be best to start from the beginning, he opened up to the very first page:

**_September 19th, 1997_**

**_Dear Diary,_**

**_I've never really kept one of these things before. They always seemed so, I don't know, trivial to me. I mean, why waste my time writing down my thoughts and feelings, when I could be studying – you know, _learning_ something? Besides, writing in a diary has always seemed to me like such a girlish thing to do. What am I supposed to write about? Boys? Hah! That would be absurd. Me, Hermione Granger - thinking about boys. That's just too funny to even comprehend._**

**_So, of course, Harry gave you to me. I'm not exactly sure why. He can't have thought I would actually use you as a journal, could he? I would think he would have figured I would have just ended up using you as a notebook for class. But if that were the case, why didn't he just save his money and get me a regular notebook instead? I'm sure this journal was not too cheap – not that Harry Potter needs to necessarily save his money, but…oh dear. I am babbling. See? This journal thing is going to turn out to be pretty pointless, I'd say._**

_**Malfoy thinks I am using you as a way to confess my true feelings for Harry Potter – which I DON'T have. Okay, well perhaps I DO have a small, miniscule amount of romantic feelings for Harry Potter, but – well, how the heck could MALFOY pick up on that? I've always thought of him as being book smart, but who ever thought he'd be able to read someone like that? I'm surprised he would even recognize romantic feelings when he saw them. Surely that git has no idea what it's like to be in love – or to BE loved, for that matter –** _

Inhaling sharply, Draco instantly turned the page.

**_September 21st, 1997_**

**_Dear Diary,_**

**_Whoever thought that it was a good idea, putting MALFOY and me together as Head Boy and Head Girl, certainly were not thinking clearly. I want to throttle the pompous git! Seriously, that boy needs to grow a heart in that empty chest of his. Even the smallest of one would suffice –_**

Ouch. Draco immediately began racking his brain, trying to remember what he could have possibly done to make her so mad. Of course, it was too far back for him to remember, but he figured it was probably something as simple as him calling her a "mudblood" for the three hundredth time. He sighed. He _knew_ it would be a bad idea to read any of her earlier entries.

Flipping through the pages, he stopped in the middle of the November entries. One, in particular caught his eye:

**_November 14th, 1997_**

**_Actually, I guess it is technically the 15th of November, since I am writing this during the early hours of the morning. I've had a very long day. I really should be sleeping right now, but I'm too wide-awake to even consider closing my eyes._**

**_This may be a bit hard to believe, but Draco Malfoy saved me tonight – in more ways than one._**

**_It all started when I was hanging out in the Gryffindor common room with Harry, Ron and Ginny. We began to discuss the Yule Ball, which was when Harry took it upon himself to turn to Ginny and ask her to be his date! Of course, she said yes. After all, I do believe she's been waiting for him to ask her on a date for more than six years now. Honestly, I should be happy for her. And I am! But I was just so...hurt. To have it confirmed that Harry thinks nothing more of me than as a friend is quite painful. Or, at least, I thought it was at first._**

**_But then Malfoy saved my life._**

**_Perhaps "saved my life" is a strong term to use. I honestly do not believe my life was in any danger tonight, when Crabbe and Goyle cornered me in the hallway. Sure, they were probably going to scare me a little - and probably hurt me, too. And to be perfectly honest, I was VERY scared. But when Malfoy arrived, I knew right away that he would help me. If this had occured last year instead, I would have assumed he had come to join in on the attack. But he was actually furious at those two numskulls - so much so that he actually took points away from his own house! Of course, he was quite furious with ME as well - and with good reason. I was certainly somewhat to blame for the whole thing. I really should not have been out so late at night by myself._**

**_But that's not the only way Malfoy saved me tonight. He somehow has managed to convince me that Harry Potter is not worth wasting my feelings for. He said that Harry is a dolt for not realizing how I feel about him, and I actually agree. He has convinced me that I need to move on. And he has convinced me that I deserve better than Harry Potter. Can you believe that? If I'm not mistaken, I think Malfoy actually _complimented _me._**

_**And then I kissed him on the cheek. I don't know WHAT the heck possessed me to do THAT.** _

Draco smiled, remembering that kiss. It was most likely that small gesture of hers that had made him start to like her - or, at least, made him _admit_ he had started to like her.

He turned the page again. The next entry was short and sweet - only two sentences - but it was possibly his most favorite one yet:

**_November 17th, 1997_**

**_Dear Diary,_**

**_Pansy Parkinson is a bit of a trollop. And honestly, she's not even all that pretty._**

Draco smirked. It seemed so out of character for Hermione to resort to gossiping about another girl, but he figured that Pansy had probably done something to provoke it. He wasn't sure, but he swore that he could detect a bit of jealousy in the words – even though she certainly had nothing to be jealous of where Pansy was concerned.

Sighing, he set the journal back on the table. He wanted to continue reading, but he had told Harry he would meet him at the Three Broomsticks at noon. Apparently, Harry had asked Ginny to bring Hermione into the Three Broomsticks at around noon, and then come over to his table and join him. When Draco had complained about Harry getting Ginny involved, he assured him that not only had he _not_ informed her about their plan – but when she asked why he wanted her to do it, he lied and said it was because he wanted to get to know the new Hermione a little better, but was apprehensive about approaching her himself.

Of course, the Weaslette was overjoyed that Harry was going to give her a chance, and she immediately told him she'd have Hermione there at noon sharp, and that she would think of some excuse to leave them alone. Draco, meanwhile, was supposed to make himself scarce until Harry and Hermione were alone, and then he would find some sort of reason to join them – thus making it a bit more comfortable for Hermione.

When Draco had suggested to Harry that _he_ should be the one to interrogate her – and without Harry present – Harry quickly shot down the idea, saying that he didn't trust that Draco would even end up going through with it.

Draco couldn't blame Harry for not trusting him, but he thought the whole plan was a mistake. He felt that having her confess in a public place was unfair. Most likely anything she had to say would be best confessed in private, but Harry pointed out that it was the only way to slip her the potion, without her being suspicious as to why they were offering her a drink. Draco couldn't help but agree with that reasoning, but the whole thing just made him uncomfortable. He felt as though he was betraying this girl. And he was almost certain that the real Hermione would have disapproved of the whole thing.

But Harry was determined. If Draco didn't help him, he would do it by himself, anyway. And Draco figured he should consider himself lucky that he'd even been included in the plan.

It was only a few minutes past noon by the time he arrived at the Three Broomsticks. When he entered the pub, he glanced around until he found Harry, Ginny and Hermione sitting at a table in the far corner. Draco figured Harry must have picked it because of its seclusion.

He stood by the bar and watched them. Ginny was saying something, and an uneasy expression came over Hermione's face. She was shaking her head as Ginny stood up – probably protesting her departure. But Ginny said something else – most likely urging her to stay – and then smiled, waved, and quickly began to walk away. Hermione appeared crestfallen as she watched her go.

Ginny had a pleased smile on her face as she headed for the pub's exit. Her gaze met Draco's as she walked by, and her smile faltered a bit.

"Malfoy," she acknowledged him stiffly.

"Weaslette," he said with a slight nod.

Ginny just rolled her eyes and continued on her way. Once she was gone, Draco figured it was a good time for him to make an appearance. He wasn't sure how long Hermione would survive alone in Harry's presence.

So he made his way over to the table, catching Harry's eye as he did.

"Potter," he said as he approached the table.

Hermione glanced up at him with a relieved look on her face. "Malfoy!"

"Granger," he mumbled. He turned to Harry and said, "Potter, when are we going to start our Potions project? If you're expecting me to do it on my own, then you're more stupid than you look."

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry spat. "As you can see, I'm trying to have a conversation with someone, and that someone is not _you_."

"Oh. Well, in that case, I think I'll join you." Pulling out a chair, he plopped down next to Hermione. "So, what are we talking about?"

"Nobody invited you, ferret," Harry said. He was doing a great job acting like he wanted Draco to go away. Of course, it probably wasn't much of an act for him.

"He can stay," Hermione said quickly.

"Thanks, Granger," Draco said, leaning back in his chair. "See, Potter? I was invited, after all."

Harry glared at him. "Fine. I'm going to go get a drink." He glanced at Hermione. "Can I get you anything?"

"Uh…sure," Hermione said. "Butterbeer is fine."

"Okay," Harry said, standing up.

As he began to walk away, Draco said, "What, you're not going to ask me if _I_ want anything?"

Without even stopping or glancing back at him, Harry snapped, "If you want something, get it yourself."

Draco smirked. When Harry was gone, he turned to Hermione. "He sure is a pleasant fellow, isn't he?"

"Thank you," she said, giving him a warm smile.

Draco glanced at her curiously. "For what?"

"Oh, everything," she replied. "But for starters, thank you for coming over here. I know you only did it because you saw me alone with Harry."

"Did I?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, you did. And I appreciate it. So thank you. But…well, I also wanted to thank you for the past few days – you know, with the way you handled the whole situation of what happened in my bedroom. I know you were curious about why it happened, but you didn't press me for information. And the fact you didn't go to Dumbledore, even though you had every right to – it meant a lot to me. Plus, I know for a fact that you've been watching over me these past couple of days, making sure I didn't get attacked again, and that probably means the most of all to me."

Draco groaned inwardly. "Granger, you don't have to thank me -"

"No, I do," she said. "I mean, I've really come to think of you as sort of a…_friend_. I know you may not think of _me_ as one, but -"

"Granger," he interjected. "Please…"

She was killing him. If he hadn't been feeling guilty about this whole thing _before_, he certainly was _now_. And guilt was not a feeling Draco Malfoy experienced often – or at all. But suddenly, he was feeling very guilty, and he didn't like it.

"You're still here?"

Draco glanced up to see Harry returning to the table. He set a mug of butterbeer down in front of Hermione before taking a seat.

"Thank you," Hermione said politely, but she didn't rush to drink it.

Draco's gaze rested upon the mug and his heart automatically started racing. He glanced up at Harry, hoping to catch his eye and somehow telepathically will him to call the whole thing off. But Harry wasn't looking at him. He was glancing eagerly at Hermione, waiting for her to take her first sip.

"Uh, Granger," Draco said. He stopped – what was he planning on doing? Stopping her from drinking her butterbeer? Foiling their evil plan to get information out of her? Who was he kidding? He was just as curious as Harry was – perhaps even more so. He would let her do it. It wasn't like they were poisoning her, as Blaise had. This was perfectly harmless…

"Hmm?" she said, bringing the mug up to her lips.

But he _couldn't_ let her do it – he couldn't let her drink it.

"Wait," he said, "Don't -"

He had meant to say, _"don't drink it"_, but it was too late – no sooner had he gotten the first word out than she had already drank some.

"Don't what?"

Draco glanced over at Harry, who was trying hard to hide his smile. He was no doubt overjoyed to see his plan taking effect.

"Potter," he warned. But Harry paid no attention to him.

"Say, Hermione," Harry said. "I've been meaning to ask you -"

"Potter," Draco hissed. "Don't."

"Malfoy, shut the hell up and let me do this."

Draco shook his head. "No. I'm warning you, don't do it."

Hermione was glancing back and forth at them, looking thoroughly confused. "Don't do what? What's going on?"

"Harry spiked your drink with Veritaserum," Draco blurted out.

Hermione's face dropped. "_What_?"

"Dammit, Malfoy!" Potter growled. "What the hell -"

Pushing back her chair, Hermione quickly stood up. "You _drugged_ me?"

"Granger, do not engage him in conversation," Draco warned. "If he asks you a question, you will answer it truthfully, and you won't be able to stop yourself."

Harry shook his head. "I knew I couldn't trust you, Malfoy!" Turning to Hermione, he said, "Hermione, why did you -"

"No!" she cried, covering her ears. "Don't. Please, don't."

And with that, she spun around and began walking as quickly as she could out of the pub.

"DAMMIT!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. "Hermione!" he called out as he began to follow her.

"Potter, let her go," Draco said. But Harry wasn't listening. With an exasperated sigh, he followed them both out of the pub, hoping to catch up with Harry before he was able to catch up with Hermione.

Unfortunately, Harry had caught up with her as soon as he was out the door. When Draco had exited the Three Broomsticks, Harry was standing there, looking furious, with a tight grasp on Hermione's arm.

"Get your hands off her, Potter," Draco growled. He reached over to remove Harry's hand, but Harry pushed him out of the way with his other arm.

"This no longer concerns you, Malfoy."

"The hell it _doesn't_," Draco spat.

Harry ignored him. "Hermione, why did you come to our world?"

A look of panic crossed over Hermione's features as her mouth instantly opened up to speak.

Quickly, Draco said, "Granger, fight it."

"I-I c-can't," she managed to sputter.

"Hermione," Harry said loudly, "why was there a Dementor in your bedroom the other night?"

"Granger, don't answer him."

"I-I- b-bec-because I -"

"Dammit, Potter, don't do this -"

"Hermione, why are there Dementors after you?"

"P-please d-don't make me," Hermione sobbed. Draco could tell that she was fighting the effects of the potion as much as she could, but she wouldn't be able to for long.

But suddenly, Draco found himself unable to stop her from speaking. Not because he _couldn't_, but because he didn't _want_ to. Suddenly, his curiosity was getting the best of him, with her this close to revealing the truth.

Harry, probably realizing that he was coming off as an insensitive jerk, no longer looked infuriated, and when he asked her a question one more time, he spoke in a much softer tone.

"Hermione, please tell us – why did you run away from your world?"

She was sobbing uncontrollably, but she didn't answer right off. Obviously, their homemade potion was not as strong as regular Veritaserum, or else she wouldn't have been able to hold out for so long. But it was a truth potion, no less, and it was doing its job.

"Granger," Draco began, but she interrupted him.

"I'm sorry," she said, staring straight into Harry's eyes. Tears spilled down the side of her face, but she made no effort to brush them away. "The reason I ran away from my world…the reason why Dementors are after me…" Her voice trailed off.

Suddenly, the world outside the pub became totally silent. Every single noise seemed to disappear as the two boys stood there, eagerly awaiting her next words.

With a defeated sigh, she closed her eyes and spoke; her voice barely above a whisper: "It's because…I…I..." She opened her eyes wide and stared directly over at Draco.

"_I killed Harry Potter_."

* * *


	22. and Consequences

**Author's Note:** I have to warn you all - this chapter is a bit long-winded. I will explain myself at the end of the chapter. Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I was so happy to see that a majority of you didn't see the "twist" coming, and as for the ones who had predicted it - well, so had my boyfriend. LOL

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill.

* * *

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the sobbing of a girl who had just revealed her deepest, darkest secret. 

Draco had been shocked beyond belief. The second the words were out of her mouth and had registered in his brain, his jaw dropped open and his mind became completely blank.

Harry, meanwhile, had looked as though he had been kicked in the stomach. After she spoke, his hand automatically released its grip on her arm, and he staggered back a few feet. He stared in horror at the girl in front of him – the girl who only shared the _appearance_ of his best friend, and nothing more.

"Harry," she said in a small voice, pleading.

He shook his head. "_Don't_," he hissed. He continued to back away from her, a look of disgust on his face. "You stay the hell away from me."

"Harry, let me explain. Please." There was no strength in her voice, as if she knew her pleas were worthless. He wouldn't listen to her. He'd gotten the answer he'd been looking for – just not the one he had expected, or _wanted_.

Draco stood silent, watching. Tearing his gaze away from Hermione, he saw Harry moving away – turning around and leaving. "Potter," he called after him. "Potter, where are you going?"

Harry stopped and turned around. "I'm getting Dumbledore. She's not staying in our world any longer." He spoke his words with an eerie calm. Draco guessed it was because he was in shock.

"Wait." Draco stalked over to Harry and grabbed his arm with a tight grasp. "You're not going _anywhere_, Potter."

"The hell I'm _not_! She's a _murderer_, Malfoy!"

Hermione continued sobbing, her face buried in her hands. She may have been a murderer, but in that moment, Draco felt for her.

"Bloody hell, Potter. All this time, you've wanted answers from her – and now you're just going to walk away before she has a chance to explain herself? Well, I'm not going to let you do that. The least you can do is listen to her."

Harry glared over at Hermione, his expression filled with hatred and spite. Luckily, Hermione did not see it, as she appeared to be avoiding looking at him. "Fine," he said, in a voice so cold it could give a Dementor a run for its money.

Draco let go of Harry's arm and walked over to Hermione. "Granger," he said softly.

He didn't need to say anything. She just nodded and said, "I know. I'll tell you everything – anything you want to know."

Glancing back over at Harry, Draco said, "Let's go somewhere a little more private."

* * *

Back at the Heads' Tower, the three sat around the common room in an awkward silence. Hermione sat on the couch, staring down at her hands, which were resting in her lap. Draco sat atop the coffee table, directly in front of her, while Harry chose instead to stand, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed sternly over his chest. 

He was the first one to speak.

"Why did you kill me?"

Realizing his mistake, he cleared his throat and said, "Why did you kill the Harry Potter in your world?"

At the sound of his voice, Hermione's eyes opened wide as she turned to look at him. Just moments before, she had willingly taken another swig of the homemade Veritaserum, to assure that her answers would be completely honest – though, at this point, Draco figured everything that would come out of her mouth would be the truth. After her previous bombshell, she really had nothing else to hide.

She sighed before answering. "A lot of things were different in my world," she began. "Some of the places; some of the _people_. Harry and I were friends – _best_ friends, actually. And Ron, too. We were always together – we did practically _everything_ together. We were known by many as _The Golden Trio_, and we were always envied – not only because of Harry Potter's star status, but because of how devoted we all were to each other. We were inseparable. That is, until the end of our fifth year."

"What happened at the end of your fifth year?" Draco asked.

"That's when Harry began to change," she replied softly. "After the death of his godfather -"

"Sirius," Harry muttered stiffly. A pained expression now adorned his features.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Sirius. His death hit Harry hard, putting him in a very dark place – darker than anyone could have imagined. And at first, when we began to notice how distant Harry was becoming, we just assumed that he was having a hard time dealing with his loss. But we had no idea…no idea that we were slowly losing him to the other side."

Looking shocked, Harry shook his head and said, "No way. I would have never joined the other side."

"_You_ wouldn't, maybe. But the Harry in _my_ world would, and he _did_. I think that Sirius's death left him an empty shell – and that it also left him vulnerable to The Dark Lord's manipulation. Harry's transformation began very slowly; it was almost hard to notice. You know, I remember the first time he called me a _mudblood_." She glanced back down at her hands, which were playing nervously with the hem of her shirt. "I thought he was joking, so I just laughed it off. I thought he was merely mocking all of the Slytherins who had ever called me by that name -" She looked up at Draco. "But by the second time, I knew – he was saying it to be cruel. I saw the look on his face when he saw how much it hurt me, and he looked so _pleased_ with himself."

"Why would he have joined the other side?" Harry asked, looking slightly ill. "It makes absolutely no sense."

"You're right – it _didn't_ make any sense. That's why nobody believed he had switched over – or, at least, why they _chose_ not to believe it. When I tried to talk to Ron about it, he got so angry with me. He said that there was no way that Harry would betray his friends – and that there was no way he would fight for the other side. And Ginny was the same way. They both thought something was wrong with _me_ – that I was making up these stories about Harry because I was jealous of him. But I knew what was really going on – and he was aware that I knew. And he tried to shut me up."

The color had drained completely from Harry's face as he took a seat in one of the armchairs. "What did he do?" he whispered.

Hermione continuously wiped away the tears that were spilling over, but it was no use – she could not seem to stop crying. Absent-mindedly, Draco reached out and placed a reassuring hand on hers. The gesture seemed to shock her; she faltered a bit as her gaze met his with a look of appreciation.

With a deep breath, she continued. "One evening earlier this year, Harry, Ron, Ginny and I all went down to Hogsmeade to hang out at the Three Broomsticks. Soon after we got there, though, Harry just got up and said he had to go do something, and that he would be right back. Nobody questioned him. I don't think they _dared_ to. But I needed to know where he was going. So I excused myself to go to the bathroom, and instead – I followed him.

"I followed him as inconspicuously as I could. He never looked back the entire way, so I figured he had no idea that I was following him. Eventually, he stopped near the Hog's Head, looking around as if waiting for someone, and then finally he went down the alleyway right next to the building. I was afraid to follow him the rest of the way, because I was afraid of what I would find out. I mean, I'd had my suspicions, but I didn't want to have them confirmed, because it would possibly mean losing my best friend forever. But I continued following him. I stood by the side of the building, and I managed to peer over without them seeing me."

"_Them_?" Harry said.

Hermione nodded. "Harry and…" Glancing down again, she whispered, "Lucius Malfoy."

Draco inhaled sharply. "What the hell was Harry doing meeting my father?"

Hermione laughed – a sound completely devoid of emotion. "Well, apparently, judging from the way they were interacting with one another, Harry had become like a son to Lucius. Perhaps even more so than _Draco_."

Both Draco and Harry looked equally horrified.

"I couldn't hear all of what they were saying," she continued, "so I initially assumed that perhaps Harry was just playing Lucius, to try and get information from him, but I found out the hard way that I had assumed wrong."

Harry gulped. "What happened?"

A fresh batch of tears emerged from her already red and swollen eyes. Draco squeezed her hand, trying to provide as much comfort as he could.

"Apparently, Harry had seen me by the alleyway. He knew I had seen him with Lucius, and he assumed that I had heard everything that had been said. And he was afraid that I would tell someone – like Dumbledore. So that same night, when I was walking back to the Gryffindor tower, he came from out of nowhere, and he grabbed me. I cried out, but he quickly silenced me with a spell, and he pushed me into the nearest empty room, and he…"

"He what?" Draco asked softly.

Hermione sniffled. "He attacked me. First, he threw me up against the wall, and grabbed me by the throat. And then he pulled out his wand and held it up against the side of my head and warned me that if I didn't keep my mouth shut about what I'd witnessed, he would kill me. I was so scared, but there was nothing I could do to fend him off – it was like I was paralyzed. Not from any spell, but from the shock of my _best friend_ threatening to kill me."

Draco let out a slow breath. "Did he hurt you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Luckily for me, the Head Boy was patrolling the halls nearby, and had heard my cry for help. He walked in on us. He saved me."

"The Head Boy…" Draco muttered. He didn't even need to ask the question; she knew exactly what he was thinking.

She nodded. "Yes. _Draco Malfoy_ saved me."

That bit of information provoked a scowl from Harry. Draco figured he must have been having a terrible time dealing with everything he was learning about himself from another world, and it only added insult to injury to hear that _Draco_ had been Hermione's knight in shining armor, while _Harry_ had been everything _but_. Draco should have been reveling in Harry's distress – but he wasn't.

"After that night," Hermione continued, "I stopped hanging around with Harry – I was just too afraid of him and what he would do to me. And because I had distanced myself from _him_, I had also managed to distance myself from Ron and Ginny. And I never told them – or anyone, for that matter – about how he had threatened me, or about what I knew about him being associated with Lucius Malfoy. They probably wouldn't have believed me, anyway. So I became a loner. I avoided Harry at all costs, and I became withdrawn from everything – my schoolwork, my extracurricular activities, and all of my other friends. I had hoped to just go the rest of the year avoiding any sort of confrontation with Harry, because after graduation we would all go our separate ways anyway. But in the end, I just couldn't sit back and watch it all happen. Harry was a powerful wizard, and he'd only become more so as he got older. If he was going to fight on the wrong side – then the _good_ side really stood no chance of winning."

"So you told someone, then?" Draco asked.

"No," she replied. "And that was my mistake. I went directly to _him_. I needed to know why he was betraying everyone who had fought beside him all of those years. I needed to know why he would willingly serve someone who took the lives of his parents – and who was responsible for the death of his godfather. He told me that I wouldn't be able to understand – and that I was just a stupid mudblood who would get what was coming to her." She lowered her eyes. "I could see right then and there that the Harry Potter I knew and loved was _gone_, and had been replaced by some…soulless entity. I don't know how exactly it had happened, but the Dark Lord had managed to snag him. And I knew there would be no way to get him back.

"But then I foolishly told him that I was going to Dumbledore and tell him everything. He said that he couldn't let me do that, and that's when he pulled out a knife." She paused and chuckled. "A _knife_! I had no idea why he'd even had one with him. He must have been carrying that thing around with him all the time, just in case he needed to use it on somebody. Well…I had given him the perfect opportunity to put it to use."

Harry was now staring down at the floor, his jaw clamped so tight that Draco could see the muscles contracting.

Hermione, meanwhile, unbuttoned the first few buttons of her shirt and pulled it open, revealing the nasty scar she had shown them when she had first arrived in their world. "I told you that I got this from a Death Eater. Well, I was being half-honest. I got it from a _Death Eater-in-training_."

"_I_ did that," Harry mumbled. He didn't word it as a question, rather as a statement. By now, it was pretty easy for both of the boys to predict the rest of her story.

"He stabbed me when I'd tried to flee. I was in such a state of shock when I hit the floor that I couldn't move. I think _he_ was in shock as well. And as I was crying out in pain, I could almost swear that I detected some bit of remorse dwelling in his face – as if for one brief moment, he realized that what he was doing was wrong. But that didn't last very long. The next thing I knew, he was down on the ground, straddling me, with one hand clamped tightly around my neck. He told me that the Dark Lord would be so proud of him for killing a mudblood – especially _Hermione Granger_. He said he could have just used the Death Curse on me, and it would have been a lot quicker, but that it also would have been a lot easier for him to get found out. And then he glared down at me and said, '_besides – I'd much rather watch you suffer'._

"But, despite the strong hold he had on me, my will to live was a bit stronger. I somehow managed to knee him where I knew it would hurt the most. He rolled off of me, writhing in pain, and he dropped the knife. Without even thinking, I picked it up, and I just reacted. I stabbed him. I didn't mean to kill him – I just meant to hurt him the same way he had hurt me – but I'd hit just a little too close to the heart and…"

"Merlin," Harry groaned, hiding his face with his hands.

"It all happened so fast," she said, her sobs returning. "I didn't think about it, I just did it. I was so scared – and I was dying. I could feel it. I was bleeding to death, and I didn't have my wand with me; I couldn't heal myself – or _Harry_, for that matter. So I panicked, and all I could think to do was get away from there as fast as I could. So using the last of my strength, I managed to go find the one person who would help me. Only later did I realize that I had left without the knife."

"I can't listen to any more of this," Harry muttered. He shot up from the chair. "I'm getting Dumbledore involved with this."

"Potter," Draco protested. But Harry didn't let him continue.

"Malfoy, you just heard her story. She _killed_ Harry Potter. If her world is anything like ours, that's a pretty big offense – one that most likely includes time in Azkaban, seeing as though the Dementors are already after her. If we want to try and help her at all, we're going to need _Dumbledore's_ help."

There was no way Draco could argue with that. Harry, as usual, was absolutely right. They were all in way over their heads, and it was irrational to think that they would be able to help Hermione on their own.

"You're right," Draco said with a somber nod. With a sigh of defeat, he said, "Go get Dumbledore."

Harry glanced at Hermione with an expression of pity mixed with guilt and sympathy, before turning on his heel and exiting the common room.

The second Harry had disappeared through the portrait hole, Draco took a seat next to Hermione on the couch and said, "I was the one who helped you get here, wasn't I?"

She did not look surprised at all that he had figured it out. She just nodded and said, "Yes. You were."

Draco swallowed hard. "You and…and this other Draco. You were friends?"

Hermione shrugged. "I guess you could call us friends. We certainly weren't enemies anymore. After he had saved my life, things had changed between us. He hated Harry with a passion, so naturally when Harry had joined the evil side, Draco wasn't so interested in being a part of it anymore. He didn't exactly join the _good_ side, but he did seem to suddenly want to defy his father, and I think befriending a mudblood like me was a good start. He's the one I went to, you know, right after I killed Harry."

"I figured that," Draco said. He wasn't sure _why_ he had figured that. But something told him that the relationship between Draco and Hermione in _her_ world was not all that different from the one he'd had with the Hermione in _his_.

"By the time he had opened up the portrait hole, I wasn't doing too well," she continued. "When he saw all the blood, he immediately picked me up and brought me into his common room. He wasted no time in performing a healing spell on me, while I managed to tell him the whole story. By the time I had finished telling me about Harry, he had managed to stop the bleeding, but the scar had remained. But that was okay, I told him. I felt that I had deserved it, anyway."

Draco shook his head. "It doesn't sound to me like you deserved it at all, Granger. What Potter did -"

"I don't blame him," she interjected. "Whoever the person it was that he had become – I don't believe for one second that he had made the transformation willingly…or, at least, using a sound mind. Like I said before, he had been traumatized by Sirius's death, and The Dark Lord had used that trauma as a way in. Harry was so easy to break when he was already falling apart, and…and I _knew_ that. I _knew_ that we hadn't lost him completely. I should have tried harder to get him back, or I should have gone to Dumbledore…but instead, I – I killed him."

"Granger, you just _reacted _– you reacted to him trying to _kill_ you. It was an accident – you said so yourself. And that's why you need to go back to your world and explain everything -"

"No," she said, shaking her head adamantly. "No, I _can't_…"

"You _have_ to go back," he said. "You killed Harry in self defense – that right there would give you a lighter sentence to begin with. But I'm convinced that with the help of our Veritaserum, they won't even _try_ you after they find out the truth."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know…"

"Granger, you can't keep running from this. The Dementors know that you are here. It's only a matter of time before they come back to get you, and when they do, they're not going to bother to listen to your story – they are going to suck the soul right out of your body…and then it will be too late. If you go back and talk to Dumbledore, he will know what to do, and he will help you." Draco paused. "The only problem with this, though, is trying to find your way back to your world. I suppose you could just wait around for another Dementor and go through the same portal -"

"Actually," she said in a sheepish voice, "getting back to my world might just be a little easier than you think."

Draco arched an eyebrow curiously, as Hermione reached down the front of her shirt and pulled out a necklace with a gold medallion hanging from the end of it. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed her wearing it before.

"What is that?" he asked.

"It's a charm," she replied, glancing down at it with a smile. "Draco managed to find a way to imprint a connection to our world on it – in case I needed to come back for any reason. He made one for himself too, that would connect with wherever I ended up. That's why I was so worried when the Dementor found me – because there is a very good chance that they obtained the charm, meaning they probably found out that Draco had helped me, and who knows what they might have done to him…"

Draco understood. If the Dementors had found out that the boy had helped Hermione, they might have very well given _him_ the Kiss. It made him a bit uneasy - if not completely creeped out - to think that perhaps another version of himself in another world was either dead, or worse – alive, but lacking a soul.

Ignoring the feeling, Draco said, "Well, that's great, then. I mean, it's great that you have a way back. And now, with a way to prove what really happened that night…you no longer have anything to run away from."

She nodded. "I know. You're right. But, it's just that…I…I can't do this alone," she whispered.

"I know," he said softly. "That's why I'm coming with you."

His words surprised him – possibly even more than they had surprised _her_. He actually had not given any prior thought to accompanying her to her world, but once the words had been spoken, he realized it was something he needed to do.

"R-really?" she stammered. "You would do that?"

Draco nodded. "You shouldn't have to go through this alone, Granger. Besides, it would drive me crazy to send you back there, not knowing what might happen to you."

Hermione smiled and said, "You're so much like him – the Draco in my world."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yes. You act all tough, like you don't care about anyone but yourself, but deep down you _do_ care. And you're stubborn – refusing to admit when you feel something for someone else, as if those feelings are something to be ashamed of. They aren't, you know."

"I know that," he said defensively. "And I haven't refused to admit my feelings to _anyone_."

"I wasn't talking about just _you_."

Draco opened his mouth to ask her what she meant by that, but quickly shut it when he realized she was referring to the Draco in _her_ world.

Suddenly, her face crumpled and a new set of tears began to flow. "I'm so scared that something has happened to him. I'm scared to go back and find out he's been hurt, or captured or killed. That scares me even more than what they might do to _me_…"

As her broken voice trailed off, Draco found himself pulling her into a comforting embrace. She fell into his arms as if she had done so a million times before, and she buried her face into his shoulder and sobbed. And suddenly, Draco could see that the boy in her world meant a great deal to her – greater than she was probably even aware of.

"Granger, I'm sure he's fine," he murmured as he gently caressed her back. Closing his eyes, it was easy to pretend as though this were _his_ Hermione he was holding in his arms. She not only looked and sounded like her, but she _felt_ like her too. And holding this girl in his arms right now, it reminded him of just how much he missed Hermione…and how he would give anything to be able to hold her in his arms, or to fall asleep next to her, or just glance at her from across the room and admire how innocent and beautiful she was…

As if sensing what he was thinking about, Hermione pulled back slightly. Her face was still wet from the tears, but they were no longer overflowing. She stared up at him with those big brown eyes – identical to her predecessor's – and he immediately found himself getting lost in them. For a moment, as she leaned in a little closer, his mind went blank. For a moment, as her lips nearly touched his own, he fooled himself into believing it was the real thing.

But he stopped the kiss before it could happen.

Gently, he pushed her away. She didn't look hurt or disappointed. If anything, she looked relieved.

"I'm not him," he whispered.

Hermione nodded. She understood. "And I'm not _her_."

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head. No, she wasn't her. And he had never for one moment wanted this girl to _be_ her. He could feel a lump begin to form in his throat. He might have even let it dissolve – he might have broken down as Hermione had a few moments before – but the portrait hole opened up from behind them, and Harry walked in, with Dumbledore trailing closely behind him.

Draco turned around to acknowledge them, but then quickly glanced back at Hermione.

"Are you ready to go home?" he asked her quietly.

With a solemn nod, she said, "Yes, I am," and soon thereafter, the four of them began the preparations.

* * *

**Author's Note #2:** Ack, this chapter was _so_ hard to write. And it wasn't all that much fun. There seemed to me like there was way too much dialogue (of course, there needed to be a lot of dialogue in order for Hermione to explain everything), and I'm not completely satisfied with the reason she gives for having killed Harry. I swear, it sounded so much better in my head months ago, when I planned it out. However...I'm just really anxious to finish this fic, so I aplogize if any of this is seeming lackluster, boring, or just plain silly at times. I'm hoping that, by the end (which will be coming in a few chapters, I'm happy to report) everyone (including myself) will be satisfied. But until then, I just hope you all keep reading. XD  



	23. Promise

**Author's Note:** You are all so unbelievably sweet. If I could, I would treat you all to dinner and a movie. Oh, and cookies. Can't forget the cookies. Thank you all for the very lovely reviews! 

Congrats to **xfantasies** for giving this story its 1,000th review! You win…absolutely nothing! Well, other than the satisfaction in knowing your review was the 1,000th one.

Oh, and…I am _so totally_ going to go over the100,000 word mark with this chapter, which has been my goal all along. I'm so happy (and, apparently, unable to make a long story short…). On a related note, this chapter is painfully long. I wrote about 5,000 of these 6,000-something words just today, and I think I have carpal tunnel syndrome now. :P

**Disclaimer:** I just realized that Ron has had a very minor role in this story. Heh. Poor Ron.

* * *

According to Hermione, the portal would open up as soon as she muttered one, simple word. 

So if Draco were going to change his mind, he'd have to do it soon.

Harry had filled Dumbledore in on the whole story before they had arrived back at the common room. And once Draco had informed him of their plan to use Veritaserum to help Hermione's case, the Headmaster offered to get them some _genuine_ Veritaserum, to ensure accuracy. He then advised them to go directly to the Dumbledore in _her_ world and tell him the entire story. He said that if his counterpart in another world was anything like _him_, he would do anything in his power to help her.

Draco hoped he was right.

He watched her as she stared down at her medallion apprehensively. He didn't envy her. She had no idea what she would be returning to. She had no idea of what her future held. The only certain thing was that whether she was sent to Azkaban or her case was dismissed, she would have to live the rest of her life with the guilt of murdering her best friend. And it was quite possible that she would be facing it alone, without a friend in the world.

For a brief moment, he wondered if perhaps sending her back was the wrong thing to do.

But she didn't appear to be having those same thoughts as Draco. In fact, she seemed quite eager to leave. Eager to get it over with. Eager to find out just what was in store for her.

"The portal will close directly behind us right after we arrive at our destination," she explained, stone-faced, "so we will have to go through it together."

Draco nodded. "Fine."

Hermione nodded. Holding the medallion tightly in her hand, she closed her eyes and whispered, _"Aperio."_

The portal opened up immediately before them. It looked similar to the one the Dementor had left through: bright, colorful, mesmerizing.

"Remarkable," Dumbledore muttered. Draco could see a distinct twinkle in his eyes, as though he were witnessing some new type of magic that was utterly fascinating to him.

"We shouldn't leave it open too long," Hermione said. She turned to Harry and Dumbledore. "Professor, I just want to thank you for being so kind to me, and for allowing me to stay here as long as I did. You didn't have to do that, and…well…I can't even begin to tell you how much that meant to me."

"Think nothing of it, my child," Dumbledore said with a smile. He placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I wish you the best of luck. And I grant you an open invitation, to return to our world whenever you would like."

Hermione returned his smile. "I might just take you up on that offer."

The Headmaster removed his hand from her shoulder. "That would be splendid."

Her glaze immediately flickered over to Harry, who was looking a bit awkward.

"Harry," she said, moving over closer to him. "Harry, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you right away -"

Harry shook his head. "No, don't apologize. I don't deserve an apology. What I did to you in your world…"

"That wasn't you," she reminded him. "Listen, Harry, I've been avoiding you ever since I got here. Not because I was afraid of you, but because I couldn't look at you without having the memory of…well, _you know_. I could tell right off that you were different. I could tell that you cared a lot for the Hermione in this world, and that you never would have hurt her."

"I wouldn't have," Harry whispered.

Draco could see the tears welling up in Harry's eyes and quickly looked away. He couldn't bear to watch the boy cry over his beloved Hermione. It would only threaten to cause him to do the same.

"I do need to apologize for the Veritaserum, though," Harry said. "And for the way I distrusted you. I just couldn't accept the fact that you were so much like her. I was afraid you were trying to take her place."

"I would never dream of doing that," Hermione said. She glanced over at Draco as she spoke the words. "I know she is irreplaceable."

Harry nodded. He cleared his throat and held out his hand. "Well, good luck. I hope everything works out for you."

Hermione took his hand and shook it. "Thank you."

She released his hand and took a step back. Staring at Draco, she said, "Are you sure you want to come with me? You don't have to."

But he _did_ have to go with her. He needed to help her in any way that he could. It was as if he somehow felt as though it would make up for the fact he'd been unable to help _his_ Hermione. And in that way, he was only helping her for selfish reasons. But he wouldn't let her know that. "I'm positive, Granger."

"Be careful," Dumbledore warned.

Draco nodded in response as Hermione took his hand in hers.

"It's time," she said. "You might feel a bit disoriented at first, but it will be over quickly. Just don't let go of my hand."

Draco glanced over at Harry one last time. The raven-haired boy was staring down at the ground, feigning disinterest. But Draco knew better.

Squeezing Hermione's hand slightly with his, he turned to her and said, "Let's do this," and they stepped inside.

* * *

Stepping through the portal was in many ways similar to apparating. As soon as they had stepped inside, and odd weightless sensation came over Draco, and that disorienting feeling Hermione had warned him about came at him with full force. The world around him became a blur – colorful at first, then white, until finally fading out to black. And almost as quickly as it had begun, it ended, and Draco found himself stumbling forward onto solid ground. 

Hermione's hand was no longer entwined with his, and for a moment he wondered if she was still with him. With a grunt, he pushed himself up onto his knees and looked around at his surroundings. The first thing he saw was Hermione on the floor just a couple of feet away from him, already starting to stand up. The next thing he saw was his very own common room. Everything appeared to be the exact same – from the arrangement of furniture, to a lot of the decorations – yet at the same time, it just felt different. Harry and Dumbledore were gone, and the lighting was a lot dimmer. They appeared to be the only two people in the room, to Draco's relief.

"Well that was…fun," he said, getting up from the floor.

Hermione did not acknowledge him. Instead, she headed straight for the bedrooms.

"Malfoy?" she called out. She ran up to his bedroom door and pounded on it. "Malfoy, are you here?"

When she received no response, she turned the knob. "It's locked," she mumbled in frustration.

"Here, let me try," Draco said, joining her. He figured either the door had been locked manually, or else his doppelganger had cast a no-entry spell, much like the one _he_ had cast on his _own_ bedroom at the beginning of the year. Pointing his wand at the knob, he mumbled _"Alohomora."_ Fortunately, it did the trick. He could hear the lock release, and he pushed the door open.

There was no sign of him anywhere.

"He's not here," she said, her voice thick with apprehension. "They must have done something to him."

"Granger, he's probably out with his friends," Draco suggested, annoyed that she was rushing to conclusions so quickly.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione said, "This was a really bad idea."

"No, it wasn't. And look – this place is perfectly neat – no sign of a struggle. And trust me when I tell you that nobody does anything to Draco Malfoy without some sort of fight."

Hermione nodded slightly. "You're right. You are absolutely right. I'm sorry, I'm just a bit jittery still from the trip. Did you see what I meant about it being disorienting? That feeling doesn't just go away the second you arrive at your destination. It lingers."

She was correct. In fact, Draco was still feeling jittery himself. But he refused to let it cloud his judgment. He was intent on remaining positive until they found any reason to do otherwise.

"Where would he have kept the other medallion?" he asked, hoping to get her mind concentrating on something else.

She furrowed her brow. "Erm…" Her voice trailed off as she glanced around the Head Boy's bedroom. "I'm guessing it would be somewhere in here. Where would you hide something like that?"

Draco thought about it for a second. Where would he hide something as valuable as a dimension-opening charm? Surely, it would be in a place where nobody else would think to look – which, of course, ruled out spaces such as underneath the mattress, or in the drawer of his nightstand. Glancing around the room, he searched for anything that appeared out of the ordinary - anything that would simply look like a mundane object that could have possibly had a use for hiding something.

Nothing in particular caught his eye.

"We'll have to search for it," he said, walking over to the bureau that stood on the other side of the room. He opened up the top drawer, the second drawer, all of the drawers, and all he could find were clothes – clothes very similar to his own, if not all identical.

Hermione, meanwhile, had taken to looking on a small bookshelf next to the bureau. She took out one book at a time, opening each one in the process. Draco figured she was probably looking for a secret compartment that might have held the charm.

They spent the next couple of minutes searching, finding nothing. Finally, Draco began to say that perhaps one of them should search the common room instead, but a voice behind them interrupted him.

"_Granger_?"

Draco recognized the voice as his own. He glanced over at Hermione, whose head had immediately whipped over in his direction. She glanced at him questioningly, and Draco knew she had thought _he_ had said her name. Slowly, he shook his head, and averted his gaze towards the bedroom door.

Her gaze followed his and she gasped. Standing in the doorway was Draco Malfoy, looking completely healthy and unharmed, although a bit confused.

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed.

Draco was not sure who made the first move toward the other. Hermione instantly dropped the book she was holding in her hands, while the boy at the door let his book bag slip down over his shoulder and onto the floor. It was very possible that they had moved at the same time. Either way, they met each other at the middle of the room and immediately fell into each other's embrace.

Draco blinked in surprise. He hadn't exactly expected such a warm welcoming from his double. Hermione never went into great detail over how close the two of them were, but watching them now, it appeared as though they had been _very _close. They almost looked like two best friends who hadn't seen each other for years, and who were shocked to find out the other was still alive.

The hug lasted for just a brief time, but the intensity of the emotions behind it was too overwhelming for Draco. Looking at them, he saw himself and the girl he'd loved and lost, and he saw what could have been. As he felt a lump begin to form in his throat, he quickly glanced away. But when he glanced back over at them a few seconds later, they had broken apart and were now gazing at one another uncomfortably. Had that hug come as a complete surprise to them?

"Granger, what -"

The boy stopped speaking as his gaze fell on Draco. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped open slightly. "What the…Who are _you_?"

Draco smirked. "I doubt any introduction is necessary. I am exactly who you think I am."

"You're me."

Hermione giggled. "Yeah, uh…Draco Malfoy, meet…Draco Malfoy." Turning to the confused boy beside her, she said, "That world you ended up sending me to was practically identical to our own, right down to the people. The portal landed me in his common room. Crazy, huh?"

"Uh…yeah." The boy blinked, and his expression went directly from shocked to blank. Draco couldn't help but be amused at how similar this guy was to him, right down to the mannerisms. "Well, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Draco said.

Regaining his composure, the boy stared down at Hermione. "Granger, what are you doing here?"

Quickly wiping away tears – what appeared to be _happy_ ones – Hermione said, "I needed to come back. I've decided that I can't run from…well, you know, everything that happened. So I came back."

The platinum-haired boy shook his head fervently. "No, Granger, it's not safe for you here -"

"It's not safe for me anywhere else, either!" she cried. "A Dementor showed up in my bedroom, Malfoy! It tried to give me the Kiss! It doesn't matter where I try and hide, they will just keep coming after me!"

"But Granger, there has got to be a way to get you off their radar. You can't stay here – the entire school is in an uproar, and everyone is talking about how that goody-good Granger murdered Harry Potter, Boy Wonder. If they find out you're back, they'll waste no time in sending you to Azkaban."

"No, I don't think they will," Hermione said. "Not after they hear the truth."

"The truth?" The boy scoffed. "We're talking about _Harry Potter_ here. Nobody is going to believe you when you say it was in self-defense."

"Yes, they will," she said simply. She reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out the vial of Veritaserum. "With this stuff, they'll have to believe me."

"What is that?"

Draco, who had taken a seat on the edge of the bed, watched the two of them as Hermione explained Veritaserum to his twin. He watched as they argued back and forth as to whether or not she was doing the right thing, and he smiled. It was so surreal, as if he was watching his own life through someone else's eyes. It was amazing how similar they both were to himself and the real Hermione.

After listening to them for no more than a minute, Draco felt it was up to him to step in and explain to his other self that this was essentially a fool-proof way of getting Hermione off the hook – or, at least, lessening her charges. So he stood and cleared his throat. But when he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was replaced by someone else's.

"Draco, who are you talking to in here?"

The voice belonged to a female, and it sounded quite familiar to Draco. He looked over to the entrance of the bedroom just in time to see Pansy Parkinson appearing in the doorway.

Her gaze first fell upon Hermione and her eyes widened. "Granger? What are you -" And then she must have caught a glimpse of Draco out of the corner of her eye because she immediately stopped talking and gaped at him. "Who…what…_huh_?"

"Pansy," the other Draco said, as if he was about to explain everything in great detail to her, but then gave up and said, "To make a long story short, Granger is back, she wants to confess, and she brought a friend with her who looks just like me. Actually, I think he _is_ me, only from a different dimension…"

Pansy held up a hand to silence him. "I get it. Well, I get the _other you_ part. But what I don't get is why the hell Granger would want to come back and confess!"

Draco furrowed his brow. "You mean you were in on this as well?"

"Of course I was," Pansy said. "Who do you think supplied them with the charms?"

This revelation came as a bit of a surprise to Draco, but it did go a long way in explaining why the Pansy in his world had said Hermione had reacted to her as if she were a friend.

"And Blaise?" Draco said.

Pansy nodded. "Zabini? Yeah, he _knew_ about it. But he didn't exactly _help_. Blaise is not exactly what you would call the _helping type_." She rolled her eyes.

Draco snorted. So Blaise was pretty much the same in their world – only less likely to poison Hermione. _Well,_ he thought, _I guess that explains why Hermione was so quick to trust the Blaise in my world._

"Look," Hermione said, "I don't expect either of you to understand why I need to do this. But I'm at least hoping I can get your support."

Pansy glanced at her sympathetically. "Of course we will give you our support, Granger. Right Draco?"

They all glanced over at the Head Boy, who was standing there, stone-faced. Draco knew just by looking at him how he was feeling: anxious and uncertain. He knew that this boy thought Hermione was making a big mistake, but that he figured that arguing with her about it would be pointless. Hermione Granger, in any world, was stubborn, and would do whatever she wanted to do - regardless of what anyone else thought.

So solemnly, he nodded. He turned to the Head Girl and said, "Pansy, go get -"

"Dumbledore?" she finished for him. "Sure thing." She looked at Hermione. "That is, if you are _sure_ you want to do this."

"I'm sure," Hermione said.

So Pansy left, and the remaining three migrated to the common room, where they sat around in awkward silence until about ten minutes later when they heard a _cracking_ sound, and Pansy and Professor Dumbledore appeared out of thin air in front of them.

Draco was shocked to see that apparating was allowed on school grounds in this world, unlike in _his_ world. He was actually a bit jealous of that fact, as apparating saved a lot of time and energy when trying to get from one place to another around Hogwarts.

Dumbledore's eyes traveled from Draco, to the other Draco with that same twinkle he had seen in _his_ world's Dumbledore, right before leaving. He turned to Pansy. "Which one is which?"

Unable to hide a smile, Pansy pointed at Draco. "That's the one from the other world, and that one," she pointed to the other Draco, "is ours."

"Spectacular. Truly magnificent!" The old man walked over to Draco and extended a hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco shook his hand. "The pleasure is all mine," he said, hoping he didn't sound too insincere.

The old man just nodded and turned to Hermione. His smile faltered a bit, but did not leave his face completely. "Miss Granger, so nice to see you're back. Miss Parkinson here has filled me in on some of the story, but I understand there is a lot more that needs to be discussed."

Hermione, suddenly looking somber, said quietly, "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore held out his hand to Hermione. "Will you please come with me?"

Hermione nodded. She took his hand and stood up from the couch. She glanced over at Draco. "Will you still be here when I get back?"

"Definitely," Draco replied. He gave her an encouraging half-smile, which she returned with a wavering smile of her own. It was obvious that she was nervous and scared, and Draco wished he could go with her. But he knew this was something she needed to do on her own.

With another _crack_, they both disapparated.

Pansy let out a big breath. "I do not envy her right now."

Draco – the other one – said nothing. He just remained perfectly still on the couch, staring down at his hands.

All they could do now was wait.

Determined not to spend his remaining time there in uncomfortable silence, Draco decided to spark up a conversation. He glanced around the room, racking his brain for conversation ideas, when his gaze finally landed on the front of Pansy's robes. She was wearing the Head Girl badge.

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Pansy, you're Head Girl?"

"Of course I am," she replied, then furrowed her brow. "Why…aren't I the Head Girl in your world?"

Draco chuckled. "Hardly."

Pansy frowned. "Well, that's unfortunate." She paused as she looked at the Draco sitting on the couch. "Um…I should get going," she said. "I told Millicent that I would meet her in the library this afternoon. Besides, I'm sure you two would like some time alone to…I don't know, swap stories or whatever. Draco, it was great meeting you. I've always said there aren't enough Draco Malfoys in the world."

Draco smirked. "Thanks, Pansy."

She proceeded to say goodbye to the other Draco - who just grunted in response - and then she left, leaving the two of them alone.

Draco stared at the boy who sat across from him. It was just like looking in the mirror. He even adorned the same worried expression Draco figured _he_ _himself _was exhibiting at the moment.

"Everything is going to work out," he assured him. "You'll see."

"I just hope you're right," the boy muttered.

Draco sighed. He never wondered what it would be like to have a conversation with himself – nor had he ever wondered what it was like for _other_ people to have a conversation with him. And in this moment, he realized that he was certainly not the easiest person in the world to talk to. He made a mental note to try and be more social in the future.

He knew that getting information out of him would be like pulling teeth, but he just had to try. He wanted to know.

"Why did you help Hermione?"

The boy on the couch looked up at him in surprise, as though he hadn't expected to be asked that question. He narrowed his eyes. "How much do you know?"

Draco shrugged. "Not a whole lot. Just that you prevented Harry from attacking her once, and that you helped her get to my world. Other than that, I know virtually nothing."

Taking a deep breath, the other Draco said, "I helped her because she needed help."

"But don't you hate her?"

"I did - at one point. I never really knew why though, other than because she wasn't a pureblood. Oh yeah, and because she was best friends with Potter. _He's_ the one I always hated. Not her."

Draco nodded. He understood. "So then that's why you helped her? Because she killed your nemesis?"

"It was so much more than that," the boy replied. "That night I walked in on them in that classroom, I don't know…something in me just snapped. I saw him, and he was trying to hurt her. _His best friend,_ of all people. But you know, it didn't matter who it was – whether it had been Granger, or any other girl for that matter – it made me sick to see him treating her that way. I mean, I may be a complete arse, but I do not tolerate violence towards women. I have my father to thank for that. I can't tell you how many times I witnessed him beating my mother when I was growing up. And after the very first time I saw it happen, I made a vow to never inflict that kind of pain on any woman, nor to let anyone else do it. So after that night, I took it upon myself to watch over her."

Draco was not shocked to learn that Lucius had been so malicious in a different world. He was willing to bet he was the same in _every_ world. "So you befriended her?"

The other Draco shrugged. "I guess you could say that. See, I'm a teenager, and teenagers often like to rebel against their parents. I had already started rebelling a couple of years ago – just doing my best to get into trouble and defy my father. But once I had learned about Potter slowly making his way over to _my_ side – and interacting with _my_ father – I decided the best way to get back at my father would not only be to befriend a mudblood, but to give up any sort of dream I'd ever had of becoming a Death Eater." He stopped and chuckled. "And you know, the funny thing was that my father didn't even notice. But that was fine with me, because I was becoming less and less interested in that kind of lifestyle anyway. So I stopped being the asshole I was. I stopped picking on other people. I stopped tormenting underclassmen. Crabbe and Goyle – they hated the change and eventually wouldn't so much as look at me. But Pansy and Blaise – they were a little more loyal. They were willing to follow me – so that's what they did."

It was all starting to make sense to Draco. "So that's why Pansy and Blaise were let in on what Hermione had done?"

"No, that happened purely by chance. They both happened to be with me the night Granger came to my door, bleeding to death. They helped me heal her. And after she told us her story, they both helped me come up with the idea of sending her away. They weren't so much helping _her_ as they were helping _me_. They knew that I…" His voice trailed off. He lowered his gaze to the floor. "They knew that I cared about her."

Draco closed his eyes briefly and sighed. "And…does _Hermione_ know that you care about her?"

The boy in front of him scoffed. "Of course not. I mean, I'm not saying that I'm in love with her or anything. I just…I was worried about her. I didn't want her getting sent to Azkaban for doing something in self-defense that _I_ would have willingly done _without_ any sort of provocation. Azkaban would have been the death of her, and I couldn't let that happen. Not because of Harry fucking Potter." Pausing, he glanced back up at Draco with a curious look. "But…just out of curiosity…what is the Hermione Granger like in _your_ world?"

The question caught him off guard. At first, he didn't know how to respond. He quickly composed the words in his head, but he began speaking before he even realized he was doing it.

"She was…incredible," he replied quietly. It was _his_ turn now to stare down at his hands. "She was infuriating most of the time. Annoying. A know-it-all. She always had a quick comeback, and was able to insult me with complete ease, as though she never even had to _think _about it – the words were always just _there_. And I tell you, she had some good ones. She probably would have managed to hurt my feelings on one or two occasions, if I had actually given a damn about what she thought of me. She was kind. Giving. Selfless. Smart, witty, incredibly talented when it came to magic. She was always considered the greatest witch of her generation, and I couldn't have agreed more. She was loving. Gentle. She was…beautiful."

And that's when he felt the tears stinging his eyes. He swallowed hard, trying to push down that lump that had formed in his throat. "She was…" His voice cracked. "She was _everything_."

He could feel the other Draco's eyes on him, staring. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

But then the boy sitting across from him cleared his throat. "I, um, I couldn't help but notice you were referring to her in the past tense. Why is that?"

"Because the Hermione Granger in my world is dead," he said simply. There was no need to sugarcoat his answer – it was what it was. There was no way he could have put it more eloquently.

He heard the other Draco inhale sharply.

"Oh," he said. "Wow, that's…that's terrible. What happened?"

"Killed by a Death Eater," Draco replied.

"Oh, man. I'm sorry to hear that. I can't imagine how _I_ would have felt if Harry had actually succeeded in killing Granger. A world without Hermione is…"

"…a world not worth living in," Draco said softly.

The two boys looked at each other then. The look in each of their eyes spoke volumes. And it didn't need to be spoken aloud – they both knew how the other one felt about their own Hermione.

"Listen," Draco said suddenly. "I'm going to give you some friendly advice. If you have feelings for her, you need to let her know. You see, _my_ Hermione died before I could tell her. I think about that every day, and I regret it. You have _no idea_ how much I regret it. But while I mourn that fact, I also have to live with the guilt of knowing that she died because of _me_; because of how I felt about her. But that guilt is not enough to make me wish I had never loved her – because loving her was the best thing I have _ever _done in my _entire_ life, and if I could erase these past two months that she has been gone, and do only one thing differently, I would come up with some grand scheme like yours and leave our world behind us and spend the rest of my life with her without a care in the world. And, see, _you_ can still do that. It's not too late for you."

The other Draco just stared at him in awe. He appeared to be at a loss for words.

But Draco didn't mind. He suddenly didn't feel like talking about Hermione anymore. It was just too…painful.

Luckily for him, he was saved by yet another _crack_, as Hermione apparated back into the common room. Both boys were shocked to see her back so soon.

"Hermione!" The other Draco jumped up from the couch and rushed over to her. "What happened?"

"Well…I told him everything," she replied slowly. "I presented him with the Veritaserum beforehand, and told him that if I drank it, it would prove I was telling the truth. But he told me to save it, because he would believe me even without it."

"And?"

"And, I am to present my case to the Ministry of Magic the day after tomorrow. Dumbledore seems to think that I don't have to worry about going to Azkaban. He also said it was a good thing that I didn't let you heal my scar, because it will surely help my self-defense story. Apparently, Dumbledore knows some witch who has psychic powers. Apparently, she can see people's pasts when she touches them, so naturally she'll be able to see that Harry had indeed attacked me. All in all, I guess the outlook is fairly good."

"Granger, that's wonderful," Draco said. He strode over to her and gave her a brief hug.

"It's all thanks to you," she said, beaming. She pulled out of his embrace. "Honestly, I can't thank you enough – for putting up with me, for convincing me to come back…"

Draco waved his hand dismissively. "Think nothing of it, Granger."

"Sorry, I can't do that," she teased. She lifted herself up on the tip of her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

Draco smiled. "Well, I guess my job here is done."

Hermione's face fell. "Oh, that's right! The medallion!" She turned to the other Draco and said, "Please tell me you still have it."

He winked at her. "I still have it." Reaching down the collar of his shirt, he pulled out the chain, which he'd been wearing around his neck the whole time. He removed it and held it in his hand. "Just tell me when you're ready," he told Draco.

Draco nodded. "I'm ready." He turned to Hermione. "Take care," he said, gently squeezing her arm.

"You too," she said softly.

He nodded to the other Draco. "Do it."

The boy smirked. He closed his hand around the medallion and muttered, _"Aperio."_ Once again, the portal opened up before him.

He turned to head toward it, but Hermione quickly grabbed his arm to stop him, and to his surprise, she pulled him into another embrace.

"The Room of Requirement," she whispered into his ear.

"Huh?" He stared down at her, confused.

She smiled up at him. "The other night, when I was late for patrolling, that's where I was: The Room of Requirement. I couldn't remember – I don't know why, but I couldn't. But I remember now. I remember everything. You need to go there."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it," she said. "Promise me you'll go there."

"Granger – the Room of Requirement only appears to someone who's in_ need_ of something. What am I supposed to think about when I get there?"

She grinned. "Just walk by the spot three times, thinking of the one thing you need most of all – or what you _want_ most of all. It shouldn't be too hard. I have faith that you'll think about the right thing."

"But -" Draco began to protest.

But Hermione interrupted him. "Promise me. Oh! And," she reached into her pocket and pulled out her medallion, "I want you to have this. In case you would ever like to visit this world again. Bring a friend if you'd like." She winked at the last part.

Draco reached out and took the medallion from her hand. "Thanks," he said hesitantly. He was confused by her sudden behavior, but figured it was best to just shrug it off. "Goodbye, Granger…_Hermione_."

"Goodbye, Draco."

He strolled over to the portal, but stopped just before stepping through it. He turned to the boy who mirrored himself, and said, "Remember what we talked about."

The other Draco nodded. "I will."

With one last glance at Hermione, Draco stepped through the portal and left that world behind.

* * *

Neither Dumbledore nor Harry was still in the common room when he arrived back. He hadn't expected they would wait for him, since they'd had no idea how long he would be gone for – or if he was ever coming back. When he entered the room, it was dark, with only a bit of the moonlight pouring in through the window. It had only been afternoon when he'd left, and was surprised to see that so many hours had gone by since he'd left. He figured the dimensional traveling, while it seemed brief, probably took longer than he thought. 

He was dead tired, and contemplated going to bed. But less than a half hour later, he found himself standing outside the Room of Requirement instead, staring at the blank wall before him. He had no idea why he had gone there, other than because Hermione had been so persistent about it. He was undoubtedly weak – his curiosity had gotten the best of him. And not to mention, he'd made a promise.

The Room of Requirement would only appear to those who were in need of something, and Draco honestly had no idea of what that something would be. Hermione had told him to walk past the spot three times, thinking about what he needed, but it would have been more helpful had she offered up any sort of suggestions as to what that might be.

He walked past the blank wall the first time, thinking about how he needed to be doing something a little more productive with his time.

He walked past the blank wall the second time, thinking about how he needed sleep.

He walked past the blank wall the third time, thinking about how this was only going to work if he thought of the same thing each time he walked by.

Sighing in annoyance, he almost gave up. But still, he paced back and forth. What did he need? What did he want? _There is only one answer to that,_ he thought as he walked to the right. _I need Hermione – the_ real_ one._ He walked to the left. _I need her to be here, telling me that this is ridiculous – that I will never truly get what I need or want._ He walked back to the right. _Because all I really need or want is her._

And suddenly, the door appeared before him.

Draco stumbled back a few feet. "What the hell?" he muttered. He reached out to touch it, to see if it was real. And indeed, it was _very_ real.

He furrowed his brow. It made no sense. Why would the room appear for him? He hadn't had a legitimate need. Surely, the Room of Requirement was smarter than that. _Wasn't it?_

There was only one way to answer that question: he reached out, turned the knob, and entered the room.

The inside of the room was pitch black, due to the fact there were no windows. Pulling out his wand, Draco muttered, "Lumos."

The light from the end of his wand did not help too much, but it at least allowed him to see a few feet in front of him. He pointed it first to the right side of the room, where he could see there were a couple of chairs. When he pointed it to the left, he could see a table with some flowers on it. When he pointed it straight ahead, he could see a…bed?

Oh, of course. A bed! He'd been so tired and thinking about how he needed sleep that the Room had turned into a bedroom for him to sleep in. How very clever of it - and so very disappointing.

Unimpressed with his findings, he was taking a step back, closer to the door, when the light of his wand moved just right so that he could see the bed a little better. And much to his surprise, he could see that somebody was _in_ it.

"What the hell," he muttered. He moved forward toward the bed, even though his brain was telling him to get the hell out of the room. But his curiosity was once again taking him over.

As he neared the bed, he could swear the light from his wand brightened slightly. He stared at the figure lying perfectly still before him. He could see it was a girl, but it wasn't until he was directly beside the bed that he could see her face.

And what he saw took his breath away.

There, lying asleep atop the bed, was Hermione Granger – _his_ Hermione Granger – looking peaceful…looking beautiful…and looking _very much alive_.

* * *

Author's Note #2: I do sincerely apologize if there are any typos or errors in this chapter. I did proof read it all, but I'm seeing blurry!

* * *


	24. To Sleep

**Author's Note:** Haha! How many of you were expecting the ending of the last chapter? I hope I was able to surprise some of you. :D Thanks once again for all of the reviews. I will continue to say that until my story is complete. Honestly, you all rock...so...much.

Oh, and just a note on the chapter title, "To Sleep" - kind of a lame title, but since I view this chapter and then next one as a two-parter, the titles will end up fitting together. So...yeah, just thought I'd mention it.

**Disclaimer:** jkshdfnmdsf!

* * *

It had to have been a dream. 

Or an illusion.

Yet no dream could possibly feel this real, and no illusion could be physically _touched_. And when Draco reached out and gently caressed the side of Hermione's face, he could feel her soft skin against his own – and it was _very_ real.

As soon as his hand touched her, he automatically recoiled and stumbled back a few feet. His breath, once he had managed to find it again, came in short gasps.

"Granger?" he sputtered, as soon as he could find his voice. "_Hermione_?"

The sound of his voice elicited no response from her. She did not flinch; she did not so much as stir. The only thing that was confirming that she was alive at all was the rising and falling of her chest as she breathed in and out.

His heart pounded so hard in his chest that it felt as though it would break his ribs; pounded so hard that he could _hear_ it – and it was the only sound in the room that could be heard.

Until a few seconds later, when the room lit up, and a voice behind him whispered, "Oh _gods._"

Draco jumped at the sound and immediately spun around. Madam Pomfrey was standing in the doorway, dressed in her nightclothes underneath a thick, floral robe. The expression on her face was a mixture of surprise and apprehension.

"Oh gods, oh gods," she repeated. She stepped into the room, the door automatically closing behind her. "Y-you can't be here."

"What is this?" Draco asked her numbly. "How is this possible?"

Madam Pomfrey ignored his question. She, instead, focused her attention on searching the pockets of her robe. "I-I'm sorry, but I must…I must do this." Finally, she pulled out a wand from her pocket. "I must obliviate -"

"_Obliviate_?" he repeated, confused. But then it all made sense – she was going to make him forget everything he had just seen. She was going to make him forget Hermione.

"No!" he shouted. With a shaky hand, he brought his own wand up in front of him, as a way to deflect any sort of spell she may throw at him. But Madam Pomfrey must have thought he was going to curse her, because she automatically cowered at his action; a look of fear immediately adorning her features.

He recognized right away how threatening he probably looked to the nurse, but he didn't care. The only thing he was concerned with at the moment was receiving some sort of explanation, without getting obliviated first.

"What is this?" he croaked.

"I-I can't say," Madam Pomfrey stammered. "You can't know…you shouldn't be here…I can't…"

"Tell me!" Draco barked. He tightened his grip on the wand and steadied his hand. Through clenched teeth, he said, "I need to know. What -"

"What is going on here?"

For a brief moment, Draco thought perhaps _he_ had been the one to speak those words. But glancing over Madam Pomfrey's shoulder, he could see that Dumbledore had arrived, with a furrowed brow and a frown on his face.

"Mr. Malfoy," the Headmaster said calmly. "_Draco_. Lower your wand."

"She was going to obliviate me!" Draco cried.

Dumbledore exchanged a glance with the nurse. Turning his gaze back on Draco, he said, "She will do no such thing. Just put your wand away, and I will explain everything to you."

"Albus!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. "We can't -"

Dumbledore held up a hand as to silence her. "Poppy, we have kept this hidden long enough. Mr. Malfoy here deserves an explanation."

"But -"

"Poppy, you may leave now," Dumbledore said. He gave her a reassuring smile.

She looked as though she wanted to protest, but she said nothing. Instead, she nodded curtly, lowered her head and exited the room.

The instant she was gone, Dumbledore said, "So how did everything go in the other world? I take it that it all went fine?"

Draco glared at the old man in front of him. "Yes, it went fine, and I will tell you all about it later. But in the meantime, don't try to change the subject. That's _Hermione_," he said, pointing to the girl on the bed. "_Our_ Hermione."

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed, that _is_ our Hermione."

"She's alive!"

"Yes. You are correct once again."

"But _how_?"

Dumbledore motioned to the set of chairs that were sitting up against the wall. "Have a seat, Draco."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Draco said, "I'd rather stand, thank you."

"Very well," Dumbledore said with a nod. He walked past Draco and stopped at the foot of the bed.

"I'm quite pleased with the security system I applied to this room," he said. "It notifies me right away when there is an intruder. However, you are only the second – the other Hermione Granger being the _first,_ of course. I'm assuming you found out about this through her?"

Draco nodded. "You could say that. You must not have obliviated her memory as well as you had hoped."

"Perhaps. But I'm more willing to believe that the spell had simply wore off in her world. Spells don't always transfer well through dimensions."

"You don't seem to feel bad for using the spell on her," Draco said.

"Of course I felt bad about it," Dumbledore said. "I regretted having to do it. But I felt it was better to compromise the memory of one girl, rather than compromise the safety of another. We just couldn't risk her telling anyone – especially the wrong person."

"The wrong person?" Draco muttered. "You mean, like _me_?"

"Like _anyone_," Dumbledore replied. "As it is, the only people who are aware of this at this school are Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and myself. And now, _you_."

"I don't know _anything_," Draco corrected him.

"Not yet. But it's only fair that you are given an explanation. So an explanation is exactly what I will give you."

He walked around to the side of the bed and glanced down at Hermione. "As you can see, she _is_ alive. But I'm afraid she is not very responsive."

"Why not?" Draco demanded.

Dumbledore sighed. "I might as well start at the beginning: On Christmas morning, Professor Trelawney had a vision during breakfast. It was quite different from her usual ones – in other words, it felt _quite genuine_. She started muttering something about a _muggle witch_ being in danger – that she would die that day. Her vision was quite short in length, and vague, but after it was over, I was able to coax some more information out of her, although she was quite hazy on the details. She most often does not even remember her visions. However, she _was_ able to tell us that the muggle witch was Miss Granger, and that she would be in danger down at Hogsmeade. Professor McGonagall and I, we left immediately. We rushed down to Hogsmeade, but by the time we found all of you, the damage had already been done – Hermione had already been stabbed. So, as we ran over to you, McGonagall shouted out a curse to apprehend the Death Eater, and I, meanwhile, released you all from the spell he had cast upon you."

Draco nodded. "I remember. And then you came over to us, to Hermione, and you tried casting a healing spell on her."

"No, Draco, I was not trying to heal her."

"_What_?"

A small, devious smile played at the old man's lips. "When I saw Miss Granger's wound, I was gravely concerned. It looked quite serious…but certainly not fatal. And I knew right away that she could be healed. But I couldn't let anyone else realize that."

Draco furrowed his brow in confusion. "What are you saying? I mean, I saw you performing some sort of spell on her. I _heard_ you."

Dumbledore nodded. "You did, indeed. But it was not a spell to _heal_ her, but rather a spell to lull her into a deep sleep."

Draco was beginning to understand. "A sleep so deep that…it made her appear as though she was…"

"Dead," Dumbledore finished for him.

Draco shook his head adamantly as he began to pace the floor. "No. No, you wouldn't do that. You wouldn't make it look like she was dead without _telling_ anyone…"

"Oh, I would. And I _did_. At first, it was only for show for the Death Eater. I wanted him to believe that he had accomplished his goal."

"Well, it worked. He believed it. So then why the hell did you never tell anyone?"

"It's a bit complicated," Dumbledore replied. "Our original plan was to bring her back here and heal her, without anyone knowing at first that she was alive. So we set up in this room, because we needed a secure place to keep her, with little chance of anyone finding her. Since the room was being occupied, it would not open for anyone else, unless their need had something to do specifically with Miss Granger – which, I imagine, is how you got it to open up for you. We cast a spell that would prevent anyone from entering who may have meant her any harm, and I cast the security spell I mentioned earlier to notify either myself or Madam Pomfrey that there was an intruder.

"I then proceeded to call in one of the best healers in the wizarding world to help her. Miss Granger had no trouble healing, actually. I think perhaps her deep state of unconsciousness helped in the process. However, despite the fact that her wound was nearly gone, and no permanent damage had been done, she just wouldn't…wake up."

"She's in a coma," Draco mumbled. "So what? She was in a coma. She certainly wasn't _dead_! Why would you keep something like this from everyone who was so completely devastated by her 'death': her friends...her _family_?"

"Actually, her parents had a lot to do with why we kept this a secret," Dumbledore said. "We informed them of the situation right away, and they came here to be with her. After a few days of absolutely no change, they decided to head back home, but they asked that we continue to do everything in our power to help her wake. They also asked that we not tell anyone that she was alive; obviously they were quite concerned that her life would be in danger if the wrong people found out. I told them that they could bring her home with them, but they both felt that this was the best place for her to be – that she would receive the best care, and that she would have a better chance of recovery."

Absent-mindedly, Draco finally took a seat in one of the chairs. "Her parents knew," he said, as if talking to himself. "That's why they weren't in a rush to come get her belongings."

"That's correct," Dumbledore said. "They had hoped she would pull through, so they didn't want to take all of her things home with them. I imagine they thought that by doing that, it would have been like they were giving up any hope that she would ever come to again. However, after two months of no change, they finally decided it was time to bring her home. So I sent Potter to your dormitory to pick up her belongings for them."

"And then the other Hermione showed up."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. She showed up, and I immediately took it as some sort of a sign that the Grangers should not give up hope that their daughter would pull through. I managed to talk them into giving her a couple of more weeks here, and reminded them that she would be the safest here. They eventually agreed. But…so far the couple of weeks have made no difference. I can't tell you _how_ many of my closest friends I have brought in here to take a look at her – none of them were able to figure out how to help her."

Draco fixed his gaze onto the girl who was lying so peacefully on the bed and swallowed hard. How could this be? His one and only dream of seeing Hermione Granger alive again had come true - only it was merely a tease. She had been in this comatose state for more than two months now, and the likelihood of her ever waking up seemed slim at best. This was such a cruel discovery; Draco almost wished he hadn't stumbled upon it.

"So what happens to her, if she doesn't wake up?" Draco asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Her parents will come and get her, and they will decide what to do."

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Isn't there anything else that can be done?"

"At this point, I can't think of anything we haven't already tried. Looking at her right now, she looks like a perfectly healthy young woman who is merely…_sleeping_. But she has not reacted to anything – not her parents' voices, or to their touch. It's almost as if she's refusing to acknowledge that she's alive; as if perhaps she's locked into some sort of dream world that she has become comfortable in – or one that she believes to be real. That's just one of many theories. But the unfortunate truth is that we just don't know why she won't wake up, and I fear the longer she remains like this, the less likely it is that she will ever recover."

"Wow."

That was the only word Draco could think to use. Suddenly, he had to wonder if _this_ was a dream itself. Less than an hour ago, he believed that Hermione was still dead, and now he had learned that she was still alive, but completely unresponsive to everyone and everything, because she might have possibly been living in a dream world –

Draco's eyes flew open and he immediately bolted out of the chair. "I know how to help her!" he exclaimed

He began pacing the floor excitedly as thoughts began to spin around in his head. Dumbledore glanced at him curiously, and he looked very interested in what Draco had to say.

It was the reference to the dream world that had caught his attention. It hadn't at first; in fact, it had taken a few seconds to sink in. But once it had, he was convinced of what needed to be done.

"Ever since Hermione died – I mean, ever since I _thought_ Hermione had died," Draco explained, "I've been having these dreams about her. I'd have them pretty much every time I fell asleep. And every time, she would come to me, and we would talk, and everything would seem fine, but every time…she would die. And this entire time, I've just assumed that it was my subconscious playing with me – that I was having a hard time coping with her death. But in these dreams…I don't know. She just always felt so _real_. But then, a few nights ago, I got fed up with it all, and in my dream, I told her to go away – to leave me alone. I haven't had one dream about her since."

Dumbledore seemed intrigued. "What exactly are you getting at, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco stopped pacing and stared over at Hermione. "Sir, do you think it is at all possible that every time I had a dream about her, she was _really there_? Like maybe…somehow…my subconscious and _hers_ were connected?"

"I would say it is _entirely _possible," Dumbledore replied. Draco could once again see that famous twinkle in his eye.

"Sir, I think I can save her, but I'm going to need your help."

"Now, slow down for a moment, Draco. We don't even know for certain that what you are saying is what has really been happening -"

"_Who cares_?" Draco barked, immediately regretting using a harsh tone. Softening his voice, he said, "What I meant to say was that _if _she and I have some sort of connection, there would be no harm in me trying to connect with her again. Perhaps now, knowing her situation, I will be able to help make her aware of it herself. Whether or not it works, it certainly couldn't hurt."

"I don't know…"

"Please, sir," Draco said. His voice was pleading, and he was afraid he was only seconds away from dropping down on his knees and begging. "Please let me do this. If it doesn't work, then…well, then it doesn't work and there's been no harm done. Hell, I'll even allow you to obliviate my memory if it doesn't work, and I will go back to believing that she's gone. But if it _does_ work…"

Dumbledore looked at him thoughtfully. For a moment he was completely silent. He looked from Draco, to Hermione, and then back to Draco and with a sigh, he said, "I suppose it couldn't hurt. What do you need?"

"Draught of Living Death," Draco replied. "I hear it's good for putting people into a deep sleep."

"Yes, it is," Dumbledore agreed, "but perhaps a little _too_ deep."

"Good. I'll need something strong that will prevent me from waking up right away. I'll also need some type of a lucid dreaming potion, because I'm going to need to be as aware of everything in the dream as possible. Can you get those for me?"

A skeptical look came over Dumbledore's face. "I _can_, but I'm not sure I _will_. By putting you into such a deep sleep, I might also be putting you in danger, especially mixing it with a lucid dreaming potion. I have no idea how those two are going to react with one another."

"Well, that's a risk I'm willing to take," Draco said. He moved over closer to the bed and gazed down at Hermione. "And if you don't help me, I will do this myself."

"I could obliviate your memory where you stand, you know," Dumbledore said. He did not say it as a threat, but merely as a statement.

Draco nodded. "But you won't."

There was no denying it – they both knew he was right. Dumbledore wanted to see Hermione wake up just as much as Draco did, or Hermione's parents did. He wasn't going to let this opportunity pass them by, and he would do anything to help bring her back to them. Draco was very much aware of this.

"I will return with the potions," Dumbledore said finally. "You stay here in the meantime. Do not leave until I get back."

"I'm not going anywhere," Draco assured him. He never glanced back to see the Headmaster leave; he kept his gaze firmly on Hermione.

He pointed his wand over at one of the chairs on the other side of the room and said, "_Accio!_" Immediately, the chair slid over to where he was and he took a seat. He grabbed hold of Hermione's hand firmly. She did not react, but he hadn't expected her to.

Caressing her hand with his thumb, Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Very clever, Granger," he said with a chuckle. "You've had _everyone_ fooled these past couple of months. Pretending to be dead? That's _child's play_." He smirked. "I'll bet you have no idea just how much everyone misses you, do you? I'll bet you're so naïve as to think everyone has already forgotten about you. That everyone has moved on. Well, they haven't. _I_ haven't. And I'm willing to bet _that_ would surprise you most of all."

He hated having a one-sided conversation with her, and he knew she would hate to know that he had engaged her in one. Hermione was the type of person who would always want a chance to respond – to make _her_ side of the story heard.

He hoped to Merlin that she would get her chance.

So he stopped talking to her, and instead he just sat back in his chair and watched her. He watched as her chest rose and fell. He watched as her eyes moved slightly under her lids, indicating that she was indeed in a state of dreaming at the moment.

He intertwined his fingers with hers, hoping to feel the slightest bit of movement in her hand. But he didn't.

He had no idea how long it had taken Dumbledore to return, but it had seemed like only minutes. Suddenly, the old man appeared on the other side of Hermione's bed, holding a vial in his hand.

"This is exactly what you requested," he said. He hesitated before handing the vial over to Draco. "Are you _sure_ you want to do this?"

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," Draco replied. He wrapped his hand around the smooth, cool glass as he took it from Dumbledore. Clearing his throat, he said, "Would you mind if I did this alone? I mean -"

"You want me to leave," Dumbledore said. He nodded slightly. "I suppose so. I will come back in twenty minutes to check on you. If you are not awake in a half an hour, I will wake you myself. Now, it may take a short while for the potion to take effect, so just be patient."

"Okay," Draco said. He gave him a half smile and nodded, before gulping down the entire contents of the vial.

Dumbledore observed him, as though watching for any signs that the potion had disagreed with him. When it appeared as though everything was perfectly fine, he placed a gentle hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Good luck," he said, and he exited the room, leaving Draco alone with Hermione.

Quickly, Draco stood from the chair. Without letting go of Hermione's hand, he gently sat down on the bed beside her. Leaning over, he kissed her forehead lightly and whispered softly into her ear, "I'm coming to save you."

And that was the last thing he remembered before his world became black.

* * *


	25. Perchance to Dream

**Author's Note:** This chapter is for **RavensWritingProphecies**, because in her review she asked if I could possibly update before she left on a six-week-long trip. And since I figured that's a REALLY long trip, I might as well try and see if I could grant her wish. Luckily, I had the day off from work today, so I dedicated it all to writing this chapter - well, most of it, anyway. I did take quite a few goof-off breaks. Anyway, Ravens, I hope you like this and I hope you have fun on your trip! I also hope I am uploading this in time for you to read it...

Thanks once again for all of the reviews! Oh, and congrats to **TraceyI** for _totally_ guessing this chapter's title correctly. It is indeed "Perchance to Dream". Ah, Shakespeare. Even if you understand absolutely _nothing_ that he has written, you can still appreciate all of the lovely quotes from his plays. _"To sleep, perchance to dream..."_ I just thought it kind of fit with these two chapters.

**Disclaimer:** I like pizza. Probably a little _too_ much.

* * *

He woke up in a dream. 

The first thing he noticed after opening his eyes was that he was lying on the ground amidst tall blades of grass. When he rolled over onto his back and stared up at the sky, he noticed dark, ominous clouds moving overhead. Remembering suddenly that he supposedly had the power to alter this dream, he willed the dark clouds away and opted instead for a clear blue sky.

No sooner had the thought entered his mind did the clouds disappear and the sun emerge, shining hot rays down upon his face, nearly blinding him. He closed his eyes to block out the brightness and he smiled in satisfaction.

This was quite possibly going to work.

But first, he would have to find her.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and let them adjust to the light. When he could see again, he stood up. Looking around, he could see that he was standing a few yards away from the Hogwarts castle, although his surroundings did not look entirely accurate – but then again, places in dreams rarely looked the same as they did in real life. For instance, he did not recall the grass ever being that long, or even growing in that particular spot. Nor did he remember the castle being so…_tall_. When he craned his neck to look up at it, he noticed he could not see the top – as if he reached far beyond the blue sky.

Glancing down at the grass, he imagined that it was bright pink, rather than bright green. Immediately, the hue changed and he was looking at hideously colored blades of grass. He smirked when he thought about how much Pansy would have probably loved it.

He was starting to like the concept of lucid dreaming, but he didn't have the time to play around with it. He was there for a reason, and that reason was _her_.

He had no idea where to begin looking for her. But no sooner had he begun to realize how difficult it might be, he noticed a stone path beginning to emerge on the ground before him. It started just beneath his feet and moved forward a couple of inches…and then stopped.

Curious, he took a step forward. As he did, the stone path lengthened another few inches in front of him. _Interesting_, he thought. The path seemed to be moving with him, as if to guide him. But guide him to where? Looking straight ahead, all he could see was a thick forest – perhaps the Forbidden Forest, which was located nowhere near the castle in the real world. Shrugging, he began to walk forward once more. The stone path once again began to form - at a much quicker pace this time – and led directly into the forest.

Once inside the forest, the first thing he noticed was that there were no animals anywhere – no pesky squirrels, no birds - no rustling of the trees to indicate there was any other living creature around. He was surprised to find that the Forbidden Forest was a lot more eerie when it was vacant and silent.

The stone path had now reached far beyond him, so he could not see where it ultimately led. However, the forest appeared to stretch out for miles, and it seemed as though every few yards, he would just keep passing the same small patch of trees. He imagined the forest was just on a loop, only showing him what he'd seen of it in real life.

_Well this will get me nowhere_, he thought, and he stepped off the path.

Instantly, the entire forest around him disappeared and he was now standing next to the Whomping Willow tree. He should have automatically feared for his life, as the Whomping Willow had a tendency of being quite dangerous at times. But he knew he was in charge. Nothing would happen to him if he did not allow it to. He just hoped that the lucid dreaming potion would last as long as the sleeping potion did.

He immediately set out to look for her – but he didn't have to look very far at all. He found her just a small distance from the tree, by the lake, standing at the edge of the water. Her arms were folded tightly over her chest, as if she was cold and was merely trying to hold in any warmth she had left. He noted that it was quite chilly, even with the sun now beaming down on them.

She was dressed in her Muggle clothes, and he wondered if there was some significant meaning behind that. After all, her dream world so far consisted of Hogwarts – he would have thought she would be dressed in her school uniform.

But then he realized she'd been wearing that same Muggle outfit the day she had been attacked, so perhaps the meaning wasn't significant at all.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity, just watching her, but she never once glanced over his way. She just continued to stare blankly at the water with a somber look on her face. She looked so small and fragile standing there all alone, and his heart began to break. Had she been like this for the past two months?

He couldn't afford to waste any more time. Slowly, he began to make his way over to her. He noticed that there were absolutely no sounds around him – not the sound of birds in the distance, not the cracking of a twig as he stepped on it. He wondered why there was such silence, and he feared that when he tried to speak to her, no sound would come out. It was a common occurrence in dreams – the inability to speak when it was the most necessary.

"Granger?" he said as he neared her. Much to his delight, he could hear his voice just fine; in fact, it was quite startling to hear the sound in an otherwise silent world.

He hoped he hadn't scared her, speaking so suddenly. But she didn't jump at the sound of his voice. Instead, she slowly turned her head to the side and gaped at him.

"_Malfoy_?" Her brown eyes widened at the sight of him. "You…_you_ came to _me_?"

He nodded. "I did."

Frowning, she turned her head so that she was staring at the lake again. "Why? I thought you wanted me gone."

His breath caught in his throat. "Granger, I've _never_ wanted you gone. I just…I didn't know what was going on. But I know now. That's why I'm here."

She shook slightly. Quickly, he removed his robes and placed them around her shoulders.

"Thank you," she said politely. She glanced down at the ground. "I didn't think I would ever see you again."

"I'm sorry I told you to go away. I thought that's what I wanted, but it wasn't."

She smiled a half-smile and turned to him. "You're forgiven. But how did you find me? How did you get here?"

He returned her smile. "The magic of sleep potions."

She furrowed her brow. "So you're really here, then? I'm not just imagining you?"

"I'm really here."

"So then…whose dream is this? Mine? Or yours?"

"I think it's _ours_, Granger."

"That's a bit strange."

"Indeed it is." He turned to face the lake. "But it won't be our dream for long. We're going to wake up soon."

A solemn look came over her face suddenly as she shook her head. "No. _You_ are going to, but not _me_."

"No, we're _both_ going tol," he corrected her.

She turned on her heel and began to walk away from him. "I can't wake up – don't you see?"

"Yes you can, and you _will_."

"But I don't know how!" she cried, spinning back around to face him.

"Well you'd better figure it out," he said, "because the longer you go without waking up…the more likely you are to never wake up."

"Maybe that's just how it's supposed to be," she said sadly. "Maybe I'm meant to stay here forever until…until I die."

Infuriated, he stalked over to her and grabbed both of her arms and shook her. "Don't say that," he hissed. "I'm not going to let you die, nor am I going to let you give up on trying to get out of here, do you understand?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you even here? Why are you going to such lengths to try and help me?"

He loosened his grip on her arms and took a step back. He sighed. "In the last dream of mine that you were in, you said…you said that you needed me. But you're wrong, Granger. _I'm_ the one who needs_ you_. These past two months have been hell for me. I don't think you have any idea how hard it has been for me to continue living my life thinking you were dead…thinking I would never see you again. Because, you see, before your death, you had become the single most important thing to me. It took your death to really make me realize it, and once that realization hit – a part of _me_ died _with_ you. But then, just today, I found out that you're not dead after all. You're alive. Do you have any idea how happy that makes me, Granger?"

She stared at him in awe for a moment, obviously taken-aback by his words. But she quickly got over it and said, "I want to show you something."

Grabbing his arm, she began to lead him over to the Whomping Willow. He faltered in his steps at first, not really wanting to go anywhere near the tree again. But she seemed so persistent that he allowed her to continue leading him.

As they approached the tree, he noticed the opening at its base. "That leads to the Shrieking Shack," he said. "Why are we -"

She ignored him as she pulled him into the tree's dark tunnel. He felt uneasy at the sudden darkness that surrounded him, but with her hand still firmly around him, he had no choice but to continue on. Besides, he trusted that she knew what she was doing.

In the far distance, he could hear the soft sound of symphony music. It was a pleasant sound to hear, and immediately took away all of the uneasiness he'd been feeling – as did the sliver of light he could see fast approaching.

"We're here," she said, as they reached the other end of the tunnel. Taking his hand in hers, she led him through the opening.

He suddenly found himself in the Great Hall – or, rather, the Great Hall decorated as…

"The Yule Ball?" he said.

She nodded.

The room was alive with people – all Hogwarts students. Glancing around, he found Crabbe and Goyle, Blaise and Pansy, Harry and Ginny. Everyone was standing around, dressed in their finest clothes. It looked exactly like the Yule Ball they'd had earlier that year. In fact, he was sure it was the same one, as soon as it was announced by Professor McGonagall that the Head Boy and Girl would share the first dance.

His jaw dropped. "Granger, that's you and me."

She smiled. "I know."

He watched himself and Hermione as the two of them walked to the center of the room to share their dance. He remembered that night like it was just yesterday. "This is our Yule Ball."

"Mmhmm."

He watched his other self as he took the girl in his arms and began to dance. He noticed the content expression on both of their faces. He noticed how they were leaning toward each other. He'd had no idea how their dance had looked to others, but he did now. And he could see how Blaise had known about his feelings for her. It was written all over his face.

"I come here sometimes," she said, watching them. "I could just sit here for hours and watch it over and over again. I was truly happy that night, do you know that?"

He almost pointed out that it was because it was the night she had kissed Potter, but he didn't. He didn't want to ruin the mood. He didn't want to wipe that smile off of her face.

"Granger, just think of all of the moments like these that are passing you by right now. Why keep reliving the same old ones, when you could experience new ones?"

She shook her head and turned to him. Her smile had vanished. "It's not my choice."

"It _is_ your choice. You just need to accept that fact, and then do something about it."

"But I don't know what to do," she sobbed. "I've wandered around this place constantly, trying to think of ways I could get out, but I wasn't even sure until you showed up that I was dreaming. I thought perhaps I was dead and that this was some sort of afterlife. I wasn't even sure that every time I visited you, that it was really _you_. I only _hoped_ it was you. When I found out I was able to come to you in your dreams, I was…elated. I didn't have to be alone all the time – I had _you_ to come to every night."

He glanced away from her. "But every time you came to me, you died."

She shrugged. "That wasn't just a part of your dream. Ever since I stopped visiting you at night, I still died. A different way every time." She sighed. "Only without you there, I've died alone."

The muscles of his jaw tightened. If only he had known…he never would have told her to go away…

"I took a lucid dreaming potion along with the sleeping one, you know," he said suddenly, wanting to quickly change the subject.

She tilted her head and glanced at him curiously.

"I can control everything that happens here. I can change anything."

"Is that so?" she said. She glanced around the Hall with a thoughtful look on her face and then said to him, "Then can you get rid of the people in this room?"

"What people?" he asked with a smirk.

She motioned around the room. "Those peop -" She stopped and grinned. Everyone had already disappeared. "That's impressive."

"It's like magic," he said, smirking.

"Okay," she said, moving out further onto the floor. "Now, can you make us dance?"

"I don't need a lucid dreaming potion for _that_," he said, "but I'm going to have to deny your request."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Because we have little time left, and because I would rather save our next dance for when we are both awake."

"But Malfoy -"

"No buts," he said, bringing a finger to her lips to silence her. "It's _my_ turn to show you something."

Taking hold of her hand, he led her out of the Great Hall. But instead of them entering a hallway, they immediately found themselves at the bottom of a winding staircase.

"The Astronomy Tower?" she asked quizzically.

He simply nodded as he began to lead them up the stairs.

He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but he was afraid Dumbledore would show up at any moment and wake him up. He couldn't risk it, so he would have to try as quickly as he could to wake her up. The idea he had in mind was crazy – _very_ crazy – but it could possibly work. And at this point, that was the best he could do.

The staircase appeared to have the same issue as the forest had – it never seemed to end. Sighing in frustration, he turned to the wall beside him and imagined a door. When it appeared, he turned the knob and opened it. The inside of the Astronomy Tower appeared before them.

The room was dark. She let go of his hand and walked past him, over to the window.

"It's nighttime," she observed. "But it was just daytime."

He nodded. "You're correct. Well, partly correct. It's actually closer to morning. I thought maybe we could watch the sun rise together."

A huge grin came over her face. "I would love that."

He joined her over at the window and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to wake you up if it's the last thing I do."

She shook her head. "I'm not sure if you'll succeed, but I can honestly say I appreciate you trying."

He stared out the window and wished for the sun to rise. However, all that happened was that the world brightened a bit, then returned to black.

He groaned. "Uh, Granger…I think the lucid dreaming potion is wearing off."

Her face fell. "What does that mean?"

"It means that very soon, I will have no control over anything that I do in this dream, meaning I may not be able to help you." He reached out and opened up the window. "We're going to have to act fast."

"Act fast?" she said. "But we don't even know yet how to get me to wake up!"

"Actually, Granger, I _do_ have an idea. And you're not going to like it, but you're going to have to trust me." He paused and stared her straight in the eyes. "Do you trust me?"

She nodded, but at the same time looked worried. He couldn't blame her. He was kind of worried himself.

Quickly, he pulled himself up onto the windowsill.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

He reached out his hand to her. "Take my hand. I'll help you up."

She shook her head. "No. No, I'm not getting up there! Get down from there! You're going to fall!"

"That's _exactly_ what I want to do, Granger."

All of the color drained from her face. "What?"

"Granger, just get up here," he insisted. "You can trust me on this, alright? Everything is going to be fine, but we need to do this – now."

She stared at him with wild eyes, searching his face for any indication that he was joking. But he couldn't have been more serious.

"Granger, _please_."

Closing her eyes tightly, she grabbed a hold of his hand and he immediately pulled her up on the ledge with him.

She took one glance down to the ground far, far below and gasped. Quickly, he reached for her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Don't look down," he said. "Just pretend that the ground is two feet below us."

She shook her head and whimpered, clinging to him tightly. He remembered now how she hated heights – probably the main reason why she didn't play Quidditch along with her friends. He felt bad for her in this moment, and even worse that _he_ was the cause of her discomfort. But he had to do it. It was his last chance.

"Growing up, my father employed this woman to take care of me when he and my mother were away," he explained, keeping her pressed tightly against him. "She was really into the subject of dreams – she would always ask me to tell her mine so that she could analyze them. She annoyed me to no end, and I would most often just make up some horrible nightmare to tell her about. Most of the time, she'd be so disturbed she'd forget to analyze them."

He smiled slightly as she giggled. "But I remember this one time, she was going on and on about the meaning behind some dreams, or whatever – I wasn't really listening. That is, until she told me that if I were to fall in my dreams, I would wake up before I ever hit the ground – that the shock of it all, along with the desire not to land, would cause my body to wake up. I never found out if she was right, though, because I don't recall ever falling in my dreams."

"Why are you telling me this?" she said. She began to shake again, only this time he was sure it wasn't because she was cold. "You're not saying that you and I – that we -"

"We're going to jump, Granger."

"No," she said stubbornly. "No, no, no, and _no_. I am not taking _one foot_ off this ledge."

He sighed. He had known this wasn't going to be easy. "Granger, I seem to recall you saying to me, earlier this year, that you would rather throw yourself off the Astronomy Tower than hang out with my friends. So…just pretend that they are all here right now."

His attempt at a joke was lost on her. She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head back and forth adamantly. "No, I can't do it. I can't -"

"No, Granger, you can, and you _have to_." He reached down and took her hand in his once again. "You have to know that I won't let anything happen to you. We will both step off at the same time, and I will not let go of you, all right? A few seconds from now, we will wake up, and you can hate me for making you do this – but that is a chance I am willing to take. So please…let's do this."

She chewed on her lip nervously, and he could tell she was weighing all of the options in her head. She was a sensible girl – perhaps too sensible to jump off the top of the Astronomy Tower – but he had no doubt she would make the right decision.

She nodded. "Let's do this."

He grinned. "I promise I'll show you a _real_ sunrise up here when this is all over. Maybe even a sunset."

"I'll hold you to that promise," she said nervously.

He tightened his grip on her hand. "On the count of three: one…two…"

"…three," she whispered, and they stepped off the ledge together.

* * *

Draco's eyes flew open as he was jolted awake. 

He was automatically relieved to find that the surface beneath him was the soft cushioning of a bed, and not hard concrete. And as soon as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noted that he was back in the Room of Requirement, safe and sound, with Hermione still lying next to him.

_Hermione_.

He quickly sat up and turned to face her. He placed one hand beside her on the bed to support himself as he leaned over just slightly, staring down at her in anticipation.

"Granger?" he whispered.

He waited patiently for her to respond – for her eyes to open wide, for her to smile at him – but there was nothing.

It hadn't worked. She had not woken up.

Draco's heart sank as he let out an exasperated sigh. "Damn it, Granger, this was supposed to work," he hissed. But there was no hostility in his voice – just regret.

He closed his eyes briefly and let out one, lone sob. He had tried. He had tried and failed. He should have known he wouldn't be able to save her. He should have known there was nothing he could do.

In the distance, he could hear the sound of the door opening, and he knew Dumbledore had returned. All Draco had to do was glance up at Dumbledore, and the old man knew; the failure was written all over Draco's face.

The Headmaster gave him a sympathetic glance, but did not say a word. Rather, he just stood by the door, glancing down at his feet.

"I'm sorry, Granger," Draco whispered. He glanced down at her hand, which he was still holding onto, and he gave it a slight squeeze.

"I'm sorry." And with that, he began to rise up off the bed. He began to let go of her hand, but he instantaneously felt something tugging at his – preventing him from moving away.

And his breath caught in his throat.

"Sorry for _what_?"

The voice was barely above a whisper, but it was unmistakable – and so was the grip on his hand.

He laughed. He hadn't meant to, but he laughed. It was his automatic reaction, and he just went with it. Dumbledore, meanwhile, glanced up with those twinkling eyes of his, and his own features adorned an amused expression.

Slowly, Draco turned back around. What he saw made his heart practically leap out of his chest.

Hermione, who was now very much awake, blinked up at him with wide eyes and a look of pure confusion on her face.

"What's so funny?" she asked weakly.

Collapsing onto the bed beside her, Draco just laughed again – the laugh of a madman…or of a man who had just gotten everything he had ever wanted. She was alive. She was awake. And she was already giving him that annoyed look he never knew until now that he had missed dearly.

"Nothing, Granger," he replied. He breathed a sigh of relief – it was the first breath he had taken in months that didn't cause his lungs to ache. It was like a sudden weight had been lifted off his chest, and he could finally breath again. "Nothing at all."

* * *

Author's Note #2: If I had to venture a guess, I'd say there's two or three more chapters left of this story, give or take one. I really hope this chapter didn't come out seeming rushed. As it is, I'm amazed it had as many words as it did - I was expecting it to be half as long as it ended up being. Hmm. 


	26. Euphoria

**Author's Note:** Sorry it has taken me a whole week to update. This chapter was so hard to write, because it's what I like to call "a filler chapter". This, of course, means that this chapter is short, and there is nothing in this chapter of great significance - but I did need it in order to write the _next_ chapter. It's apparently more hard to write a chapter full of nothing, than to write a chapter full of something. Go figure.

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! I'm sad to see some of you are going away for a while, but it _is_ summer, so that makes a whole lot of sense. I hope I got this chapter up before bluemaui49 left for camp, although I fear I am a bit too late. If that is the case, then I am really sorry!

**Disclaimer: **My sister-in-law just asked me the other day when the new Harry Potter book is coming out, and I was all, "I dunno." I wonder if she would like to read my fan fics? Hmm...probably not. She'd probably think I'm a freak for shipping Draco and Hermione. But I can't help it!

* * *

"This is truly a miracle." 

Draco smirked. For the last half hour or so, he'd been sitting in a chair across the room from Hermione, watching Madam Pomfrey making a fuss over her. She checked her heart, her reflexes, her eyes, ears, nose and throat – all appeared to be perfectly fine. The nurse even performed the "how many fingers am I holding up?" test, which Hermione had passed with flying colors.

In other words, she appeared to be perfectly healthy.

She smiled at Madam Pomfrey. "It really is," she said. "I must have someone looking out for me."

She glanced over at Draco as she spoke the words and they shared a small smile.

But Madame Pomfrey did not even notice. "A guardian angel," she said, beaming.

"Yes. Something like that," Hermione said.

Madam Pomfrey turned to Dumbledore. "Well, everything seems to be just fine. I'd say she's as healthy as she was before…well... _you know_."

"Great!" Hermione exclaimed. "So I can leave then?"

Madam Pomfrey exchanged a glance with Dumbledore, who took a step forward and said, "I'm afraid not. I would like you to stay at least overnight. I have notified your parents that you are awake, and I have arranged for them to come and see you. They should be here within the next hour. In the meantime, you should stay here and rest."

Draco snorted. "Sir, she just had _two months_ of rest."

Hermione nodded emphatically. "He's right. I'm not all that tired right now."

"I understand your urgency to see your friends, but it is very late in the evening, and they are all sleeping right now. You might as well wait until tomorrow. After two months, I don't think a few more hours should be too hard to handle." He gave her a smile and a wink as he said it, to indicate that he was only teasing. But Draco thought he actually had a very good point.

Apparently, so did Hermione. With a defeated sigh, she said, "I suppose you are right."

"Good girl," Madam Pomfrey said, nodding. Turning to Dumbledore, she said, "I think _I_ will go back to getting some sleep myself, if you don't mind."

"Of course not, Poppy," Dumbledore replied. "Be my guest. Thank you for coming in."

"Oh, it was no problem," she said. She glanced back over at Hermione with a tearful smile. "I'm just so glad to see that you are okay, Miss Granger. We've been waiting for this day to come for so long."

"Thank you," Hermione said with a smile.

"I'll be heading off now as well," Dumbledore said. He looked over at Draco and said, "Mr. Malfoy, let's give Miss Granger here some time by herself."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione beat him to it.

"No!" she cried. Realizing she had raised her voice, she blushed and cleared her throat. "Can Malfoy stay? I mean, if he wants to."

All eyes were now on Draco. Of _course_ he wanted to stay. She didn't even have to ask.

Dumbledore nodded slightly. "I suppose if he would like to -"

"I would," Draco said, leaning back in his chair.

"Very well, then," The Headmaster said. He smiled at Hermione and turned to Madam Pomfrey. "Shall we?"

Draco watched as the old man ushered the nurse out of the room and let out a long breath as soon as they were gone.

"I thought they would never leave," he muttered.

Hermione giggled. "Thank you for staying. But please don't feel as though you have to."

"Don't be daft, Granger. I just went through all the trouble of saving you from a dream world. I'm at least going to stick around until you thank me."

Hermione grinned. "I _would_ thank you and all, but…well, I'm getting this feeling like I should be _hating_ you right now."

Draco smirked. He _had_told her she could feel free to hate him for making her jump off the Astronomy Tower. "How much do you remember? From the dreams?"

"Not a whole lot," she admitted. Her smile faltered a bit as she stared down at her hands. "Unfortunately, I've always been quite terrible at remembering my dreams. I do remember you were there quite often, though."

Draco nodded. He had figured it was possible she would not remember most of what she had dreamed about the past two months, and in a way he was glad she didn't. At least, he was glad she probably did not remember getting killed every single night.

"So how long exactly have I been like this?" she asked.

Draco cleared his throat. He pretended to think for a moment, as if trying to figure out the math in his head. But he already knew exactly how long – he'd been counting every single day.

"Two months and ten days," he replied.

Hermione groaned. "I missed _that much_ schoolwork?"

Draco chuckled. Leave it to Hermione Granger to think about schoolwork first. "I'm sure you'll have no problem catching up, Granger. Although, you may have some problem with making Veritaserum for Potions class, since you'll have to work alone."

She gasped. "Snape had you guys make _Veritaserum_?"

"Indeed, he did," Draco said with a nod. "And you'll never guess who he partnered me up with – _Potter_."

"You're kidding!" Hermione said. She giggled slightly, but it quickly faded away. Staring back down at her hands, she said, "So…how is Harry?"

He shouldn't have let her question bother him. Of course she would wonder how her friends were doing. So what if Potter was the first one she had asked about? He was her best friend. It made perfect sense.

But yet, it _did_ bother Draco nevertheless.

"He's fine," he replied shortly.

She didn't seem to notice his annoyance. She just nodded and said, "And everyone else?"

"They're all fine as well, Granger. That is to say, as fine as they all can be, thinking their friend is dead."

Hermione nodded; a slight smirk played at her lips. "I can't wait to see their faces when they see me."

"Actually, I can already describe their reactions to you," Draco said, "because I've already witnessed them once before."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh yeah? And how is that possible?"

"Well, I saw how they reacted to the other you," he replied.

Hermione glanced at him curiously. "I'm sorry - the other _who_?"

He had debated whether he should tell her right off about the other Hermione, and in the end he had decided there would be no harm in it. "It's a long story," he warned.

"That's fine. I don't exactly have anything better to do right now," Hermione joked.

So Draco told her everything. He told her how another girl so much like her, yet so different, had entered their lives from another dimension. He told her how Ginny, Ron and Luna had warmed up to her, while Harry had been suspicious of her. He told her how Harry Potter had turned evil in her world, and how she had killed him. He told her about how he had gone back to her world with her to make sure everything went okay.

What he _didn't_ tell her about was Blaise. Or about the speech he had given to the other Draco. Or about the fact that the other Hermione had read her entire diary.

By the time he had finished his story, Hermione had a look on her face that was a mixture between shock, awe, horror and, of course, skepticism.

"You're not serious," she said.

Draco shrugged. "If you don't believe me, you can ask Dumbledore to confirm it."

Hermione stared at him wide-eyed. "Another _me_? From another _dimension_?" She paused a moment, as if she were trying to imagine it. "Was she nicer than me? Was she cuter?" She gasped. "Was she _smarter_?"

Draco chuckled. "Let's see…yes, another you. Yes, from another dimension. No, she wasn't nicer. No, she wasn't cuter. And as for your last question, let's just say she isn't Head Girl in her world. Pansy is."

"Now _that_ I _refuse_ to believe," Hermione said with a giggle. She sighed. "Wow. So…I guess I missed a lot, then?"

"You did," Draco said.

"I wish I could have met her," Hermione said softly.

"Well, maybe someday you can." Draco reached in his pocket and pulled out the medallion the other Hermione had given him. "This charm links to her world. I can go back and visit anytime I want to. Maybe if you're nice to me, I'll consider taking you along."

Hermione scrunched up her face in mock disgust. "I guess I don't want to meet her _that_ bad."

"You're killing me, Granger."

"I'm trying," Hermione teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

He had never understood the significance of the saying, _"you don't know what you've got until it's gone"_ until this very moment. Or, perhaps, the better saying in his case would have been, _"you don't know what you've got until it's gone and then given back to you."_ He had missed moments like this with her, and he realized now how much he had taken them for granted before she had been taken away from him.

The room was suddenly filled with an awkward silence. Despite the fact that Draco had so much he wanted to say to her, he couldn't seem to find his voice – probably because he figured that now was not the right time to say those things to her. After all, she had only been awake for a little less than an hour, and already he had overwhelmed her with his 'other-Hermione' story – he really didn't need to get into the complications of how he felt about her too.

"Thank you," she said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Draco glanced up at her. "For what?"

She rolled her eyes. "For _saving_ me, you dolt."

"You don't have to thank me, Granger," he said with a shrug. "I really didn't do anything too special to save you."

"But you _did_," she said. "I mean, just the fact that you were even willing to _try_. It means a lot to me."

"Don't mention it, Granger. I'd like to think you would have done the same for me."

"You know I would have," she said softly, glancing away.

Draco's breath hitched in his throat. Yes, he _did_ know that Hermione would have done the same for him. She would have done it for anyone, because that was just the type person she was. But there was something in the tone of her voice…something in the way she was now blushing slightly that indicated perhaps she would have been more willing to do it for _him_ than for someone else...

He was probably reading too much into it. However, he felt the sudden urge to tell her everything – _everything_ – that he was feeling…everything he had been feeling for the past two months. Suddenly, he wanted her to know exactly how much he had missed her, how much he cared about her, how much he…well, how much he _loved_ her.

Mustering up every ounce of courage he had in him, Draco cleared his throat, and said, "Listen, Granger, there's something I -"

But he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

He glanced up, along with Hermione, to see who was intruding. Draco recognized the first figure through the door: Dumbledore. But he had never seen the man and woman who were following him in, though it was quite easy to guess who they were. Especially since the woman bore a slight resemblance to Hermione.

"Mum! Dad!" Hermione exclaimed. She immediately jumped off the bed and threw herself at her parents, who both caught her in their arms simultaneously. As they fell into a group hug, Draco sighed and stood up from the chair.

_Saved by the parents._ He was actually glad they had walked in when they had. Otherwise, who knew how much information he would have ended up spilling to her? And who knew how she might have reacted to it all? He assured himself that it was too soon, anyway.

He felt awkward watching Hermione's reunion with her parents. They were fussing and fawning over her, holding onto her so tightly Draco was surprised she could still manage to breathe. It was a heartwarming sight, but Draco couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed by it. He wasn't used to parents expressing that much love for their children.

Finally, they all broke apart and Hermione said, "How did you guys get here so quickly?"

"I had arranged to meet your parents at the train station," Dumbledore replied. "So I apparated to meet them, and brought them back here via a portkey."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You guys traveled by portkey?"

"Yes," replied Mr. Granger. "Which is probably why I'm still feeling a bit dizzy. I think I'll take a seat over there -"

Hermione's father took one step forward and then stopped when he saw Draco standing there. "Oh," he said. "Hello."

Draco nodded in response, not exactly sure how to speak to the parents of Hermione Granger. He was ashamed to admit that he felt a bit intimidated by them.

Mrs. Granger, letting go of Hermione, glanced over at Draco and gave him a pleasant smile. "You must be Draco Malfoy."

"Yes, ma'am," Draco said.

He watched as the woman walked over to him, but he expected her to stop just a few feet away from him. Instead, to his complete surprise, she walked right up to him and pulled him into a light embrace.

"My daughter has told me so much about you."

Draco went rigid in the woman's arms and glanced at Hermione over her shoulder. "Uh…everything she has told you about me is a lie."

Hermione made a face at him and rolled her eyes.

"Relax," Mrs. Granger said, releasing Draco from the embrace. "She's had nothing but glowing things to say about you."

"They weren't _glowing_, Mother," Hermione insisted.

Draco smirked. "What, exactly, did she say about me?"

Mrs. Granger opened her mouth to respond, but Hermione quickly grabbed her arm and said, "I told her a lot of things – one being that you are an arrogant prat."

"That doesn't sound very glowing to me," Draco said. "I think you're lying, Granger."

"And I think _you're_ a -"

"Children! That's enough," Mrs. Granger interjected with a chuckle.

Mr. Granger, who had been watching with a mildly amused expression on his face, walked over to Draco with an outstretched hand.

"I am Hermione's father," the man said. "And that," he pointed to Mrs. Granger, "is Hermione's mother, of course."

"Pleased to meet you both," Draco mumbled, shaking the man's hand.

"Professor Dumbledore here informed us that _you_ were the one who was able to wake up our daughter?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Thank you," Mr. Granger said in a strained voice. And, to Draco's surprise yet again, _he_ pulled Draco into a hug.

Hermione smiled at them. When her gaze caught Draco's, she gave him a sympathetic look, as if to silently apologize for her parents mauling him.

But deep down, Draco didn't really mind. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, though.

"Well," he said after Mr. Granger pulled away. "I think I'll…leave…now." He turned to Hermione. "You'll probably be seeing me again later."

Hermione shrugged. "If I must," she said coolly. But she couldn't keep up the nonchalant façade for more than a few seconds; just as he turned to go, she, herself, threw her arms around him in a tight embrace.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For everything."

It was strange how _her_ hug had caught him off guard the most. But he quickly warmed up to the embrace, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could without suffocating her.

"You're welcome," he whispered back.

Neither one of them made an immediate move to break apart. In fact, it wasn't until someone else had cleared their throat that Draco even remembered there was anyone else in the room. They both quickly let go of one another.

"See you later," Hermione said softly.

Draco nodded. He glanced over at the Grangers. "It was nice meeting you."

"Likewise, Draco," Mrs. Granger said with a warm smile.

"You should probably go get some rest," Dumbledore suggested. "I'm sure you are still feeling some effects of those potions. It would be best if you slept them off."

The old man was right. Draco was suddenly feeling worn down and slightly comatose himself.

"That's a good idea," he said.

He turned to leave, but Dumbledore stopped him. "Remember, Draco, do not tell anyone about this."

"Don't worry. I don't exactly _have_ anyone to tell," Draco reminded him. He waved over to Hermione, who waved back, and then left the Room of Requirement.

He felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria as he made his way back to the Head's tower. It all seemed so surreal – even more so than having the other Hermione around. _His _Hermione Granger was back. She was alive. And in many ways, Draco could say _he_ was no alive as well.

As he approached the tower, he grinned at the knight in the portrait, who glanced curiously back at him.

"Why are _you_ all smiles?" the knight grunted.

Draco did not respond. He just said the password, "Sugarplum," and walked through the portrait hole as soon as it opened up.

He made his way to his bedroom in a daze. He felt as though he were sleepwalking, or walking on air. Or both. He couldn't tell - he was too tired to make sense of anything. He didn't bother to change his clothes, or even to take off his shoes. He immediately fell onto his bed, and no sooner did his head hit the pillow than he was asleep.

Later, he wouldn't remember if he had dreamt at all. He would only know that it was the first good night of sleep he'd had in over two months.

* * *

Author's Note #2: I'm thinking there are two chapters left. But it would be cool if I could write about 4 more, because I think 30 is a good number of chapters to have for a story. It just sounds better than 28 or 29. You know? 


	27. Decisions

**Author's Note: **Okay, so...a really nice reviewer named **Tulips and Jill** recently told me that she had recommended this story of mine to her readers in the author's note to _her_ D/Hr story, **"Converted Sensations"**. And I was all, "That's sweet!" so I went to check out her story, and once I started reading it, I.Was.Blown.Away. Seriously - I got so hooked that I stayed up way past my bedtime to read it. I just didn't want to leave it! It's funny, it's sweet, it's sad, it's AMAZING. It's the first fic I've been incredibly excited about reading in a LONG TIME. So...if you all haven't checked it out yet, you seriously need to do so _now_. You will not be disappointed, I swear!

Thank you all once again for the reviews! I just want to give a special shout-out to one of my anonymous reviewers, named **Sydney**, who said if she could, she would make me the biggest and best cookie I would ever encounter. I really, really LOVE cookies. And if I could, I would bake every single one of my reviewers a cookie (regular-sized ones, of course). You guys are seriously the BEST.

**Disclaimer:** I realized the other day that I have not included the character of Hagrid in ANY of my fan fics. It's not because I haven't wanted to. It's just because I keep forgetting he even exists. My bad.

* * *

Draco woke up early the next morning, and despite the fact he had only received little more than three hours of sleep, he felt completely refreshed and ready to start the day. 

It was Monday, but Draco was unable to muster up the desire to attend classes. All he could think about was Hermione and seeing her again. Not that it really mattered whether or not he went to class – he'd had terrible attendance for the last two months already. And the likelihood of him actually passing for the year because of that was slim.

So he opted, instead, to go visit Hermione in the Room of Requirement, figuring that her parents would not still be hanging around. After he got out of bed, he quickly took a shower and got dressed. As he exited his bedroom and headed for the common room, his gaze traveled over to the Head Girl's room. Realizing that he hadn't been inside her room since the new Hermione had left, he figured he should quickly check it over, to make sure it was ready for the _old_ Hermione to move back into.

Surprisingly, it looked the same as it had _before_ the other Hermione had arrived. The bed was neatly made, and it looked as though nothing else had been touched or moved. Draco smiled in satisfaction – he was glad to see the other Hermione had decided to keep everything in its place. It was almost as if she had never been there in the first place.

Turning to leave, something on top of the bed caught his eye: Hermione's teddy bear. He smirked; he had forgotten all about it. Chuckling to himself, he reached out and grabbed it. He then threw it into his knapsack and rushed out of the room and headed for the portrait hole.

He practically bumped into Dumbledore as he bolted out the door.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, stumbling back a few feet. "What are you doing here?"

Dumbledore glanced at the bag Draco had draped over his shoulder. "Heading off to class, are you?"

"Uh…" Draco hesitated, silently cursing himself for his sudden inability to lie.

"You're going to see Miss Granger, aren't you?" the Headmaster asked, smiling slightly.

Draco sighed. "I was thinking about it, yes. Are her parents still there?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "They left a little while ago. Draco, I was wondering if I could have a word with you before you left?"

"Okay…" Draco moved aside, letting the Headmaster enter the portrait hole. "What's this about?"

Once inside the common room, Dumbledore stopped and turned around to face him. "I had a talk with the Grangers earlier, and the three of us have agreed that it would be best if Hermione did not return to school here."

Draco blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure that it would be wise for her to reveal herself at this point in time. Everyone believes that Hermione is dead – including the people who wanted her dead in the first place. If she comes back now, she may be putting herself in danger – setting herself up for another attack. I'm not sure that is a risk she should be willing to take."

Draco swallowed hard. "Wait…so you're saying that she should continue to let even her _best friends_ think she is dead?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"And you think that she should stop attending school here? Then where is she supposed to go?"

"Her parents want her to return home with them and finish her schooling as a Muggle. I think that would be a good idea."

Draco gaped at him. "And you've mentioned this idea to Hermione?"

"Yes, the Grangers and I discussed it at length with her this morning."

"And?"

"And…she thinks it is a terrible idea, of course," Dumbledore replied.

"Well, I agree with her," Draco said. "You're suggesting that she leave her friends _and_ the wizarding world behind. Why _would_ she think that was a good idea?"

"Mr. Malfoy, we are talking about Miss Granger's safety here."

Draco couldn't argue with that. In many ways, Dumbledore was right – Hermione's life could possibly be in danger if it was revealed that she was still alive. And of course, the idea of that killed him.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, I hear what you're saying, but…what does this have to do with me?"

"I'd like you to talk with her," Dumbledore replied. "She won't listen to me, and she won't listen to her parents. But we do think she will listen to you."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "And what makes you think she will listen to _me_?"

A smile played at the Headmaster's lips. "Draco, it is quite obvious to me that Miss Granger means a great deal to you, and you to her. I honestly believe she will value _your_ opinion above all others. Mainly because I believe she trusts you the most."

Draco couldn't help but snort. "I highly doubt that, sir."

"Doubt it all you want, Mr. Malfoy, but I think you'd be surprised how much Miss Granger values your opinion. That's why I would like you to have a talk with her about this."

"So let me get this straight. You want me to convince her to give up everything in her life that is important to her?"

"Well…something like that…"

"No," Draco said, shaking his head. "No way. I'm not going to be the one for her to blame when she leaves this place and is miserable for the rest of her life. This is _her_ decision to make – nobody else's."

Dumbledore sighed. "I was afraid you'd say no." The old man proceeded to brush past him, heading back toward the portrait hole. He stopped at the door and turned around. "Just think about it, will you? Convincing her to do this might just be the best thing for her."

"I think the keyword there is '_might_', sir."

"Very well, then. I will not force you to talk with her," Dumbledore said. He turned to leave, but stopped. "Oh, after you're done visiting with Miss Granger, perhaps you might consider going to class."

_That's unlikely_, Draco thought. But he just nodded as the Headmaster exited the portrait hole.

What the hell kind of spell was the old geezer under? How could he _possibly_ think he could try to persuade Hermione Granger to do anything she didn't want to do? Hermione _loved_ Hogwarts. She loved magic. And she loved her friends. There was no way in a million years she would ever give that all up, no matter what. Draco knew this for certain, that's why he figured it would be pointless to try and get her to leave.

And besides…he didn't really _want_ her to leave.

He thought about it as he made his way to the Room of Requirement. On the one hand, Dumbledore's advice was very _sound_ advice, and Hermione would be wise to take it. But on the other hand…

Draco sighed as he realized there _was_ no other hand.

He stood before the empty wall, glancing all around to make sure he was alone. When the coast was clear, he closed his eyes and thought about how he needed to see Hermione. And the door automatically appeared.

He knocked on it, not wanting to just enter the room unannounced.

"Come in," he heard her say from inside. So he turned the knob and let himself in.

The room looked pretty much the same as it had the night before, but now Hermione was sitting over near the corner, at a small table covered in books and parchments.

Draco groaned. "Granger, please tell me that's not schoolwork you're doing."

She smirked up at him. "Fine. I won't tell you anything."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Leave it to Hermione Granger to wake up from a two-month-long coma and immediately get started on her homework."

"Malfoy!" she said in exasperation. "I have more than _two months_ work to make up, added on top of whatever other assignments I'm given from here on out, and there is not even four months left to the school year! Call me crazy, but I'd like to graduate."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't be so melodramatic, Granger. You and I both know you could do two months of accumulated schoolwork in your _sleep_. Don't sweat it."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Surely you didn't come here just to lecture me on my studiousness."

"You are correct," he said. "Actually, I just thought I would stop by and bring you someone to keep you company for the remainder of your stay in here."

"Oh really?" she asked curiously.

Grinning, Draco reached into his knapsack and pulled out the teddy bear he had retrieved from the top of her bed. She gasped as he held it out to her.

"I do believe this is yours?"

"Mr. Jingles!" she exclaimed, yanking the bear out of his hands. A huge smile formed on her face as she glanced down at the teddy bear with glee.

Draco tried hard to stifle his laughter. Hermione must have sensed this because her face suddenly became red.

She immediately wiped the smile of her face, cleared her throat and said indifferently, "I mean…oh, this old thing? I'd forgotten I even had it."

Draco chuckled. "Granger, it's okay – you don't have to try and hide the fact you like teddy bears. There's nothing wrong with that! In fact, I find it kind of endearing."

"Really?" she said, staring up at him with an amused expression on her face.

"Really," he replied. "And you don't have to worry about me spreading this information around the school and ruining your popularity."

"You mean because I _have_ no popularity?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

Draco smirked. "Well, it's nice to see that you haven't lost you're ability to figure out my insults before I even get a chance to say them out loud."

"That's a skill I think will stick with me for the rest of my life," she said, grinning. She stood up from the table, teddy bear in hand, and went over to the bed and sat it atop her pillow. She stood there for a moment, with a thoughtful look on her face.

"So my parents and Dumbledore had a talk with me earlier," she said, her smile faltering.

"Oh yeah?" Draco said, feigning ignorance. "What about?"

She shook her head. "You're never going to believe this. They want me to _leave_ Hogwarts and go back to living as a Muggle! And without even telling anyone that I'm still alive! Isn't that crazy?"

This was Draco's moment to tell her how preposterous that idea sounded, and then have a good laugh with her over the absurdity of it all. But before he could stop himself, he said, "Actually, Granger, I don't think it's crazy at all."

Apparently, that hadn't been the reaction she'd been expecting. Her jaw dropped open slightly. "Are you saying you think it's a good idea?"

Draco sighed and glanced away from her. "I don't know, Granger. I guess I'm saying that I think it's a _smart_ idea."

"Wow," she breathed. She paused for a moment, before saying, "And here I was thinking that _you_ at least would understand where I'm coming from."

"Granger, I understand perfectly well," he said. "I understand you don't want to give up this life that you have created here over the past seven years. But I'm beginning to think that perhaps _you_ do not understand why your parents and Dumbledore think this is something you need to do."

She nodded. "You're right – I _don't_ understand. I'm _eighteen years old_, Malfoy. I am a big girl. I am old enough to take care of myself, and old enough to make my own decisions."

Draco scoffed. "You may be old enough to make your own decisions, Granger, but obviously you are not old enough to take care of yourself. In case you have forgotten, you were _attacked._ You almost _died._"

"I have not forgotten _anything!"_ she said defensively. "Yes, I was attacked. But these things happen. This world is not a safe place, no matter _where_ I am. If my parents think that bringing me back to live with them will somehow protect me from all of the dangers of the world, then they are crazy! I could just as easily get attacked in the Muggle world and die. I could get hit by a car and die. I could get cancer and die. Being a Muggle isn't going to make me immune from death."

"Granger," Draco hissed, "are you bloody _daft_? This attack on you was not _random_. Meaning that somebody out there wanted you dead. And there may still be more people like him who would want you dead if they were to find out you were still alive. What part of that doesn't scare the hell out of you?"

Hermione shook her head sadly. "I don't believe this – you're actually siding with _them_ on this? I thought…I thought you were my _friend_, Malfoy."

Draco's heart sank at the term "friend". It wasn't as though he should have expected her to think of him in any other way, but it still stung nevertheless.

Putting on his best blank expression, he said, "Right - friend.That's _exactly_ what I was, Granger – your _friend_. I was your friend, and Potter was the fucking love of your life. I'll bet that's what this is _really_ about, isn't it? You can't stand the thought of never seeing your precious Harry again. I'm right, aren't I?"

He really hadn't meant to bring Harry into the discussion, and seeing the hurt expression on Hermione's face made him automatically regret it. But it was too late to take back his words now.

_Great_, he thought. _I've spent the last two months wishing I could see her alive again, and now that I have been given the opportunity to, all I can seem to do is argue with her._

Hermione's pained expression quickly dissolved into an angry one. "Oh, here we go again," she spat. "You with your Harry Potter complex. What _did_ you manage to find to entertain you these last two months, without _me_ around to accuse of being in love with Harry?"

Draco shook his head. "Oh believe me, Granger, I never found that to be _entertaining_."

Hermione scoffed and folded her arms across her chest. "Well, you could have fooled me. You were always so obsessed over my feelings for Harry, and I can see that you still are. You think this is all about Harry, do you? Well then maybe you should ask yourself this: if Harry is the guy I've been so hung up on all this time, they why were _your_ dreams the ones I visited _every single night?_ Why were _you_ the one I thought about constantly? Why were _you_ the only one who was able to wake me up?"

Dumbfounded, Draco stared at her in awe. He opened his mouth to speak, but she immediately cut him off.

"Merlin, Draco – how daft can you possibly be? And you thought _Harry_ was oblivious! You're just as bad as he is, if not _worse_. I mean, how hard should it be for _you_ of all people to notice when a girl is in love with you?" She glanced sheepishly away from him, staring over at the teddy bear on her bed.

He stared at her in shock as her words began to sink in. He searched her face for any sign of regret over what she had just said, but he found none. Instinctively, he took a step closer to her.

"Granger," he murmured. He reached out his hand and gently brushed it against the smooth skin of her face. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, nuzzling her cheek against the palm of his hand. His own eyes drank in her intoxicating beauty, starting at her big brown eyes, which were now open and staring back at him. His gaze followed the trail of one lone tear as it traveled down the side of her face, and ultimately his eyes settled on her lips, which were parted slightly.

He remembered kissing those lips.

He didn't even notice as he started to lean in closer to her, nor did he notice his heart beginning to pound in his chest. He didn't even realize he was going to kiss her until his lips were on hers – light, soft and sweet. It lasted only a brief moment before he pulled away slightly. He hadn't meant to do that – it had just happened. He didn't regret it; he was only afraid that perhaps _she_ did.

He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, but he was not given the chance. Hermione immediately reached a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her, bringing her own lips to his, to continue the kiss where they had left off. It was soft and sweet at first – shy and hesitant, as if it were the first kiss for each of them. Instinctively, Draco removed his hand from the side of her face and wrapped both of his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer to him.

Despite the uncertainty that initially plagued the kiss, it practically took his breath away. For so long, he had dreamt of this moment, never expecting it would ever happen anywhere other than in his dreams. He had never expected to hold her in his arms again…to feel the soft curves of her body up against his…to kiss her lips.

Suddenly, he tightened his grip on her waist and lifted her up slightly so that she was more level with him. She sighed into the kiss – an act that drove Draco wild – and suddenly the kiss went from slow and soft to urgent and deep, as though they were both finally waking up to the fact that they had two whole months to make up for.

He never felt more complete than when he was kissing her. He had felt this way the night of the Yule Ball, but the uncertainty of _that_ kiss had prevented him from becoming too overwhelmed with his feelings for her. But there was something different brewing between them now; there _was_ no uncertainty – just pure, unbridled passion.

And it scared the hell out of him.

The sudden realization of what they were doing – of what _he_ was doing – startled him so much so that he quickly grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away from him. The sudden loss of contact was excruciating, and suddenly he felt very empty again. He stared over at her – her lips swollen, her facial features twisted into a look of confusion – as they both struggled to catch their breath.

"Hermione," he said hoarsely. He hated the sound of his voice at the moment, as he was unable to hide the sound of lust as he spoke her name. That wasn't going to help what he was about to say to her. "We can't do this."

She shook her head. "Why not?" she whispered.

Draco took a few steps away from her, needing to put as much distance between them so he wouldn't lean in to kiss her again. "Granger, the reason you almost died…it was because of _me_; because of how I feel about you."

Hermione blinked. "How…how do you feel about me?" she asked quietly.

Draco groaned. "No, Granger – don't do this."

"Why not?" she demanded, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "Draco, how do you feel about me?"

"Damn it, Granger!" he yelled. He hadn't meant to raise his voice, and he automatically regretted it when he noticed her flinch. But he couldn't stop now.

He stepped closer to her; close enough to take her in his arms again – but he didn't. "For once in your life, stop giving a damn about anyone else! Your safety – your _life_ – is at stake here. Don't make me tell you how I feel about you, because the second I do, there is no taking it back. I'm not going to let you risk your life because of some stupid feelings I might have for you."

Hermione bit her lip. "You think those feelings are stupid, do you?" She scoffed. "Maybe the problem isn't that you're worried about _me_ – but that you are worried about _yourself!_ Having feelings for a mudblood would be immoral and _stupid_, wouldn't it? It would taint your precious reputation as a pureblood – is that it?"

He wanted to deny it – to tell her that their different heritages had nothing to do with it. But then the realization hit: it had _everything_ to do with it.

"You're absolutely right, Granger. You are a mudblood, and I am a pureblood, and those two things just don't mix. Just the fact that you're in this room right now is proof of that. There are people – _dangerous_ people – who will do anything to ensure that the long line of purebloods is not tainted with the likes of someone like _you_. And if you think I'm going to let my feelings for you – whatever they may be – endanger your life again…well, then you're not as smart as I once thought you were."

Hermione's eyes glistened as tears began welling up, spilling over and traveling down the side of her face. She couldn't seem to look him in the eye.

"So you're saying then that…you want me to leave Hogwarts?" she asked softly.

Draco swallowed hard. "Yes," he lied, hoping his answer sounded genuine.

She nodded, glancing back up at him, staring him straight in the eye. "So then these feelings that you have for me…they are not strong enough to make you ask me to stay?"

Draco clenched the muscles in his jaw and shook his head slowly, back and forth. He did not dare to answer her verbally, for fear that his voice would break, giving away his lie.

He couldn't ask her to stay. Doing so would be selfish – and that was something Draco didn't know how to be anymore, especially when it came to Hermione Granger.

"Okay," she said firmly, quickly wiping away the tears from her eyes. "Fine. I'll tell my parents that I'm coming home."

"Fine," Draco said, a little harsher than he had intended.

"Fine. Great." She turned her back on him and headed back over to the table. "You can let yourself out."

Draco lowered his head and stared at the floor. So Dumbledore had been right – Hermione _did_ value his opinion. It just wasn't the opinion he had been expecting to give her.

"Right," he said, standing up straight. He glanced over at her one last time. She was still standing so that he couldn't see her face. But he could tell by the way her shoulders shook slightly that she was crying.

It took all the willpower he had not to go over and comfort her.

"Goodbye, Granger," he said in a strained voice. He didn't wait to see if she would respond; he turned on his heel and headed out of the room.

Once he was out in the empty hallway, he let out a deep breath. He had to tell himself over and over that he had done the right thing; that she had made the right decision.

But he couldn't fool himself.

He watched as the doors to the room disappeared, separating him from the one person he needed most in the world.

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Author's Note #2: Heh. I really seem to enjoy torturing these characters, don't I?  



	28. Homecoming

**Author's Note: **So...I'm actually thinking there's going to end up being _31_ chapters, not 30. Pretty much due to the fact that I decided to end this chapter earlier than expected, because otherwise it would have been too long. Thanks once again for the reviews! I especially liked **smartcat**'s review, where she proceeded to call me horrible...oh...about fourteen hundred times. Haha. I sure hope you copy-and-pasted, hun! And thank you to **Renbou**, who apparently wants to marry my story. Sure, girl, you can get your gown ready! That's the first proposal this story has ever received, LOL.

This chapter is dedicated to **Lady-Delphinea**, because I received her review for my last chapter just a short while before uploading this one, and she was saying how she is leaving at 5:30 am tomorrow for a week, and won't get to read my next chapter. Well the joke is on you, **Lady-Delphinea**, because I've updated before you left! Now I only hope you'll get to read it before you leave...

**Disclaimer:** Iamsosickofwritingthesestupiddisclaimers.

* * *

When Draco arrived back to the Head's tower, the first thing he did was start banging his forehead against the cold, stone wall. 

"Something on your mind, mate?" asked the knight in the portrait.

Draco stopped the banging and turned around, resting his back up against the wall. "I'm an idiot."

The knight nodded, smiling in satisfaction. "The understatement of the year."

"Sod off, wanker."

"Ho, ho!" the knight exclaimed. "Name-calling will not grant you entry into your own living quarters, you know."

"You're right. But my _password_ will. 'Sugarplum', you stupid, bloody, sorry excuse for a painting."

The knight sighed and opened up the portrait hole for him. "You are losing your touch when it comes to insults, you know. You haven't even come close to hurting my feelings."

Draco ignored him as he entered the portrait hole. He sighed and closed his eyes briefly as he entered the common room, dropping his knapsack onto the floor.

"You shouldn't just leave that there," a voice said suddenly. "Somebody might trip over it."

The sound startled Draco. His eyes instantly flew open and he found himself staring at Hermione Granger – the _other_ one – sitting on the couch. He could tell right away by her straightened hair, her makeup, and clothing that would have been deemed too unacceptable by any other Hermione.

"Granger," he breathed, as she stood up to greet him. He walked over to her and gave her a hug. "What are you doing back here so soon?"

"I needed to see you," she replied, falling into his embrace. "I have so much to tell you. I thought perhaps you might be interested."

"I am," he said, pulling away from her. He motioned for her to sit back on the couch, and he joined her when she did. "So what's up?"

"I just came from a meeting with the Ministry," she replied.

"But I thought you weren't supposed to meet with them until tomorrow?"

Hermione shrugged. "They ended up bumping me up a day. I guess they figured it was too important of a matter to wait."

Draco stared at her in anticipation. "Okay…so…what happened?"

"I was found not guilty, of course," she replied. "But…I was expelled from Hogwarts."

"What?" Draco exploded. "Why?"

"I'm a _killer_, Malfoy – self-defense or not. They don't want someone like me hanging around the school."

"That's preposterous," Draco said, shaking his head. "They can't kick you out of school for defending yourself!"

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "It actually makes perfect sense, seeing as though I'm not allowed to use magic for a whole year."

"What? Why not?"

Hermione sighed. "Apparently, conjuring up portals to other dimensions is frowned upon in my world, unless you have direct permission from someone at the Ministry. Who knew?"

Draco couldn't help but smirk. "So I guess that means that Draco's magic license is suspended also?"

"Yeah," she said. "But he's actually taking it very well. _Surprisingly_ well, as a matter of fact."

"So…wait. If you got into trouble for making the portal to begin with, then how did you manage to use it again?"

"Well, that's another reason why I'm here. They're going to permanently close the connection between our world and this one. However, I was able to convince them to let me come back one more time before they did it. I just needed to know – did you go to the Room of Requirement? Did it give you what you needed?"

Draco lowered his eyes. "Yes, it worked," he said softly. "I found Hermione there, as I'm sure you know. How did you ever stumble upon the room, anyway?"

"I told you that I had gone back to the Gryffindor tower that night to get my notebook. And, as you know, the Room of Requirement is on the way. I just happened to be nearing the spot when I saw Madam Pomfrey coming out of the room. As you can imagine, I was very curious as to what was inside. So, I stood there in front of the blank wall, and I -"

"You _needed_ to see what was inside," Draco muttered.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. And it worked! The door appeared…I walked inside…and I saw her lying there, _alive_. You have no idea how excited I was. I couldn't wait to find you and tell you, but when I turned to go, I saw that Madam Pomfrey had come back, and she -"

"Obliviated your memory," Draco finished for her. "I know. She tried to do the same to me. Luckily for me, though, Dumbledore arrived in time to stop her."

"That's very fortunate," Hermione agreed. "So…what's the story with her? She seemed to be in a comatose state."

"She was," Draco replied. "It turned out that she was never dead to begin with. Dumbledore had cast some sort of spell on her that caused her to go into a deep sleep so that we'd all _think_ she was dead. But…well, she never woke up."

"Wow," Hermione breathed. "You mean that no one has yet figured out a way to wake her up?"

"No – _I_ figured out a way," Draco replied.

Hermione gasped. "So – she's awake, then?"

Draco clenched his jaw and nodded.

"That's great!" Hermione exclaimed, beaming. "So then, where is she?"

"She's still in the Room of Requirement," Draco mumbled.

Hermione's smile faltered. "What? Why?"

Draco sighed. "Dumbledore and her parents want her to move back home. They want her to leave without even telling anyone that she's alive."

"_What?_ That's insane!" Hermione cried, shaking her head furiously. "What a terrible idea!"

"Is it _really?_" Draco said."Is it really so terrible for her to do what's best?"

"_What's best?_" Hermione repeated. "How do _you_ know what's _best_ for her?"

"Oh, gee, Granger," he snapped, "let me think about it for a second. Oh yeah – perhaps _I_ know what's best for her, because _I'm_ the reason she was attacked in the first place!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you honestly think that makes any bit of difference to her? Do you honestly think that if she'd been attacked for being friends with _Harry_, she'd give up her friendship with him and move back to the Muggle world?"

"No," Draco replied. "But Harry is different. Harry is her best friend. I'm just the guy who tormented her for seven years."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "You love her. I figured that out fairly quickly, it was so obvious. But in case you have forgotten, I have read her diary front to back, and I can pretty much guarantee that she loves you, too."

"I know," Draco muttered, staring down at his hands. "She so much as told me so earlier."

Hermione gaped at him. "Really? Wow. So…you told her that you love her too, right?"

Draco's breath hitched in his throat. "No. I can't. Because if I tell her that I love her, and she tells me she loves me, then we'll get together. And that can't happen. I _won't_ let that happen – it's way too dangerous."

Hermione scoffed. "Wow. You are _such_ a coward. And a _hypocritical_ one at that!"

Draco scowled at her. "Excuse me?"

"Before you left my world, you gave this big, long speech to _my_ Draco, telling him that if he had feelings for me that he should _tell_ me, and that we should be together," she said. "And you're not even following your own advice! That is hypocritical, and you're being a complete and total moron about this."

Draco could feel the anger beginning to boil in his blood. "Are you done insulting me yet?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"No!" she cried. "You're a bloody imbecile! You are a dim-witted, inane, feeble-minded, idiotic coward!"

Draco shook his head in disbelief. "You're wrong, Granger. I am neither stupid, nor am I a coward. I simply _care_ for her, all right? I know what it's like to live without her, thinking I will never see her again. I can't put myself through all of that again. I…I couldn't bear to lose her again."

A look of realization came over Hermione's face. "Oh," she said in a small voice. "So you're just being _selfish_ then."

He threw his hands up in defeat. This girl was driving him absolutely insane. "How is that being selfish? I'm giving up the best thing that has ever happened to me so that she can be safe!" He sighed. Softening his voice, he said, "She can't love me, and I can't love her. I am a pureblood, and she's _not._ My family hates her kind. And, obviously, they will stop at nothing to ensure I don't disgrace the family by being with her. But as of right now, she is safe because everyone thinks she's dead. If they find out she is still alive, they may come for her again. So please, tell me, what would be so terrible about her leaving this place?"

"Everything!" Hermione cried. "Listen, you do not know Hermione like I do, mainly because…well…I _am_ Hermione. We are not all that different, you know. I could tell by every single thing I read in her diary. And I can tell you this right now: she would rather risk her life and be happy, than to live the rest of her life safe and miserable. I mean, how is living in the Muggle world going to protect her from anything? She could get hit by a car and _die_. She could get cancer and _die_."

Draco couldn't help but smirk at that. Well, it turned out they were probably a lot more similar than he had once thought. They even said the same exact things. "Well, I can't control cars," he said, "and I can't control diseases. But I _can_ control this."

Hermione shook her head sadly. They both remained silent for a moment, until she reached over and took his hand. "You didn't ask, but…well, Draco did take your advice. He told me how he felt about me, and now we are together. And honestly, I have never been happier in my life."

Draco managed to smile, even as the pang of jealousy tugged at his heart. "That's wonderful, Granger. I'm glad."

"Things are not so different in my world, you know," she said softly. "I'm a mudblood. He's a pureblood. His family won't approve of us. And who knows? I may find myself in danger again one day as well. But guess what? I don't really care, because I'm happy. I'm with the person I love most in the world. There is no way I'm going to give that up because there is a _possibility_ that I could be in danger. And I have faith that no matter what happens, he will be there to protect me. And I have faith that _you_ would protect _her_."

"I would _die_ for her," Draco murmured.

"I know you would," she said. "So please…don't be such an idiot. Don't let her go. It will be the biggest mistake of your life."

Draco stared down at the floor, thinking. She was, in many ways, right about everything. He _was_ being a coward. He _was_ being selfish. He _was_ being stupid. And he _was_ about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

"Let _her_ decide what she wants," Hermione continued. "I think what you'll find is that she wants _you_."

Draco closed his eyes briefly. That was all he needed to hear.

"I have to go," he said suddenly, jumping up from the couch. He had to go to her. He had to tell her what she had wanted to hear earlier.

Hermione gave him an all-knowing smile. "Go get her."

Draco nodded. "Will you still be here? She wants to meet you."

"Of course I'll still be here!" she said cheerfully, leaning back on the couch. "In fact, I'm not leaving until I meet her."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it's a promise," she said with a smirk. "So bring her on home."

* * *

He felt nervous as he stood outside of the Room of Requirement, the door suddenly appearing before him. He paced back and forth a few times, trying to compose the words in his head so that he wouldn't end up saying something completely dumb. His words had to be perfect; she deserved nothing less. 

When he finally managed to work up enough courage, he knocked on the door, hoping to Merlin that she'd be there.

She was, but she wasn't the one who answered the door: _Dumbledore_ was.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said in surprise.

Draco glanced over the old man's shoulder to see that the Grangers had returned, and now all of them, including Hermione, were staring at him, waiting for him to speak.

"Hi. Uh…" his voice trailed off. How exactly was he supposed to declare his love for Hermione with an audience? His gaze landed on Hermione, who had a curious look on her face.

"Can we help you?" Dumbledore said.

"Actually…I was wondering if I could speak with Hermione alone, please."

The Grangers exchanged a glance with one another, and then glanced simultaneously at Hermione, as if they were leaving the decision up to her.

Tearing her eyes away from him, she smiled weakly to her parents and nodded her head. "It's fine."

"Okay, dear," Mrs. Granger said, planting a kiss atop her daughter's head. "We'll be back later."

_They'll be back…to help her pack?_ Draco wondered.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger both smiled pleasantly at him as they passed by him. He was glad to see that they weren't harboring any resentment toward him for breaking their daughter's heart. Or perhaps she hadn't even told them about it. He figured _that_ was most likely the case.

As Dumbledore proceeded to usher the Grangers out of the room, they started talking in low voices – but unfortunately, Draco couldn't quite make out any of their words. His gaze followed them as they disappeared behind the door, purposely avoiding looking at Hermione.

But he couldn't avoid her forever. When he turned back around to face her, she was staring at him intently, as if waiting for him to say something – _anything_.

The words, however, refused to make their way to the tip of his tongue. Looking at her now, he was speechless. There were not enough words in the universe to describe his feelings for her. So instead of speaking, he took one step closer to her…two steps…three. She watched him as he neared her, a look of understanding on her face. If Draco didn't know any better, he could have sworn she knew exactly what he was thinking.

They fell into each other's arms simultaneously, and he just stood there for the longest time, holding her. They didn't need words; their actions said it all.

She clung to him tightly, her face buried in his shoulder. "You came back," she whispered.

"Granger," he said softly. "_Hermione_…I don't want you to go."

"I know."

"But the thought of you staying scares me."

"I know," she said, pulling away slightly. "But it doesn't scare _me._ The thought of _leaving_ scares me. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in hiding. I don't want to spend the rest of my life without magic…without my friends…without _you_."

"And I don't want to live the rest of _my_ life without _you_," he said.

Hermione chuckled slightly. "Who knew we would ever have so much in common?"

Draco smirked. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hermione, you asked me earlier to tell you how I feel about you -"

She shook her head. "Forget about that. You don't have to tell me anything. Not until you're ready."

Draco sighed. "I don't know how I could possibly be any more ready," he said, pulling out of their embrace. He took both of her hands in his. "I've been wanting to tell you how I feel about you for the past two months. It's just that I never thought I would be given the chance to."

"Well, you've been given the chance now," she said quietly. "Are you going to take it?"

"Not yet," he murmured. Leaning down, he captured her lips with his own, kissing her with every ounce of energy he had, in the end leaving both of them completely and totally breathless when they finally broke apart.

Glancing up at him with a dazed expression on her face, Hermione breathed, "I think you just took it."

"Not even close, Granger," Draco said with a smirk. Staring down into her wide, glazed eyes, he said, "I -"

"Shh," she said softly, placing a finger over his lips to silence him. "Before you say anything, there's something I need to tell you."

Draco panicked. Whenever he heard the words "there's something I need to tell you" spoken to him, it was bad news. Always. "Okay…" he said, hesitantly, letting go of her hands.

"I was upset when you left," she said, "and I realized that I had been so quick to make my decision to go home. I was just…_hurt_ that you didn't want me to stay - at least, not enough to _ask_ me to. But once you were gone, I started thinking about what I was going to do…what I _wanted_ to do. And I decided that I _really_ don't want to go back home. Not now. _Hogwarts_ has been my home for the last seven years, and my friends have been my family. I can't just leave that all behind."

Draco nodded. This didn't really surprise him – the other Hermione had been absolutely correct in her assumption.

"So when my parents came back with Dumbledore, I had a talk with them," she continued. "And in the end, they agreed with my decision."

"Which is what, exactly?"

Hermione sighed. "I've decided to finish the school year here, and by doing so I will be letting the entire school know that I'm still alive. Maybe I'll be putting myself in danger by doing that, but even Dumbledore agrees that as long as I'm confined within the walls of this building, I should be safe until graduation. He's even going to work on some protection spells for me."

"Okay," Draco said slowly. "So then what happens after graduation? When you no longer have this place to protect you?"

"Well," she replied, "I was thinking of taking some time off after graduation. Do some traveling. I've always wanted to travel the world. Or, to be perfectly honest, I've always had this dream of going to some prestigious Muggle college. But I don't really know yet exactly what I want to do. Either way, I will be making my parents happy because I will be living in the Muggle world, and the chances of anyone coming after me there are fairly slim."

Draco's heart sank as she spoke. If she were to leave after graduation to travel the world, or even to go to college…he would never see her again. He was beginning to wonder why he had ever wanted to persuade her to leave to begin with; the thought was tearing him up inside.

"So then how long will this break of yours last?"

"Until the war," she said. "If or when it ever happens. I will come back, and I will help Harry in any way that I can. I don't want to completely give up the wizarding world, but I think maybe it would be best for me to lay low for a while after school. And then after the war, none of this will matter anyway. Either the good side wins and there are no bad guys left to worry about, or the evil side wins and…I'll have no wizarding world to come back to." She smiled sadly.

Draco was beginning to understand why she had silenced him right before he was about to confess his feelings for her: because in a little more than three months, she would be leaving him behind. Obviously, she didn't want him to have to go through with confessing his feelings, only to have her walk out of his life in the end.

He would have been lying if he'd said that didn't completely crush him. But if he was given at least three months with her, he sure as hell was going to take advantage of every single second of them.

"Well, Granger, it sounds like a pretty good plan to me," he lied. Clearing his throat, he grabbed her hand and said, "So how much longer do you have to remain in this room?"

Hermione shrugged. "Dumbledore is leaving it up to me when I want to leave, or when I want to tell all my friends I'm alive."

"Great. So you can leave right now, then?"

Hermione giggled. "I could. But where would I go?"

Glancing at his watch, Draco was relieved to see that all of the students would still be in class at the moment, so it was likely they would have the hallways all to themselves and wouldn't have to worry about getting spotted.

"Care to join me for a walk?" he asked her with a grin. It was a rather _forced_ grin, but she didn't seem to notice.

"A walk? Where to?"

"Home," he said, pulling her towards the doorway. He opened it up gently and poked his head out, checking both left and right, making sure no one was hanging around outside. When he saw that the coast was clear, he glanced back at her and said, "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

* * *

**Author's Note #2:** Ever since the new Hermione arrived in the early chapters of this story, I've noticed that about 99 of my readers have disliked her (the remaining one percent is, I believe, my very own boyfriend) - and that's cool. I mean, I never actually planned on making her a character everyone would dislike, but I never took into consideration the fact that people LOVE Hermione (the real canon one), and of course there could be no substitute! But I never wanted to make her into an unlikeable character - it was never my intention - so I'm hoping (and keeping my fingers and toes crossed) that by the end of the story, you will all decide that she's not so bad after all. I guess you could say that it is a challenge I have given myself to make you all like her by the end. Wish me luck! XD  



	29. Good Things

**Author's Note: **With the exception of the first couple of sentences, I wrote this whole chapter today. And I am exhausted. I even stayed up past my bedtime to finish it! So hopefully it's okay. I'm finding it hard to tie up loose ends with only a couple more chapters, so I can only imagine what JK is going through with writing the 7th HP book. It's not easy ending things!

Anyway, thanks for all of the reviews! I was surprised (and delighted) to see that some of you did, in fact, like other-world Hermione (or in the very least, didn't _mind_ her). But like I said, I totally understood why some people _didn't_ like her, and I'm completely cool with how anyone feels about her - as long as they feel _something_. Ah, but enough blah blahing from me. On with the chapter.

**Disclaimer: **After 29 chapters, I _still_ don't own the real thing. Le sigh.

* * *

"So whom, exactly, are you taking me to meet?" Hermione asked as she struggled to keep in stride with Draco.

"Someone you should have a lot in common with," he replied with a smirk.

Hermione gasped. "You're not talking about – you mean she's _here?_"

Draco nodded. "You think I decided on my _own _to come back to see you? Of course not. I needed a Hermione Granger to kick some sense into me." He snorted. "She seems to enjoy insulting me. You're going to love her."

Hermione giggled as they neared their tower. "This is going to be so weird. I used to have these fantasies growing up that I would find out I had a long-lost twin, and she and I would share clothes."

Draco glanced sideways at her. "Is that so? You don't even _want_ to know what _I_ had fantasies about when _I _was growing up."

"You're right," she agreed. "I don't."

Draco smirked as they approached the portrait.

The knight gaped at them as they neared. "Hey, _you're _not the new one!" he exclaimed, glancing up and down at Hermione.

"Nope, I'm not," Hermione grinned. "It's nice to see you again, Marius."

Draco could have sworn that the knight had blushed as his jaw dropped open. Marius had immediately taken a liking to Hermione when she became Head Girl – probably because she had taken the time to learn his name, something Draco had never done. In fact, he never knew until that very moment that the knight even _had_ a name.

"Miss Granger," Marius whispered. "Is it really you? No substitute?"

"Yes, Marius, it's really me."

"B-but…but you're…_dead!"_

"It's a long story," Draco said impatiently. "And if you don't mind, Miss Granger here will fill you in later. But right now, we'd like to go inside. So…_sugarplum_."

Hermione glanced up at him in surprise. "You're still using that password? I'd have thought you would have changed it by now. I thought you hated it!"

Draco shrugged. "I did hate it," he mumbled. "But _you_ liked it, so…" Damn it - he could feel _himself _starting to blush as well.

"Aw," Hermione said, playfully hitting him on the arm.

"Disgusting," Marius said, rolling his eyes. "Get a room, why don't you?"

"Well we _would_, if you'd open up the bloody portrait hole," Draco snapped.

The knight glared at him, then gazed over at Hermione fondly. "You must come talk to me later, Miss Granger!"

Hermione nodded. "Don't worry, Marius, I will."

As she slipped through the portrait hole, Draco pointed a cautionary finger at the knight. "Don't go breathing a word of this to any of your other little portrait friends just yet," he warned.

"Oh don't worry," the knight spat. "None of the other portraits ever believe a word I say, anyway."

Draco scowled at him for added effect, and then joined Hermione as she headed for the common room.

They both stopped in their tracks as soon as they entered the room. Draco stared ahead in amusement at a large, impromptu banner that had been hung from the ceiling. It read, quite simply, _"Welcome back, Hermione!"_

"SURPRISE!" a voice yelled suddenly, startling both of them.

Hermione's jaw dropped open as a girl who looked identical to her jumped up from behind the couch with her arms in the air, and a huge grin on her face.

Draco stifled a snort and said to the girl next to him, "Hermione, meet…Hermione."

"I'm so happy to meet you!" the other Hermione cried, bouncing over to her twin and throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace.

Hermione looked over the other Hermione's shoulder at Draco, with wide eyes and an expression of mock fear.

"Down, Granger," Draco said to the other Hermione. He grabbed her by the back of her shirt and pulled her away. "You don't want to scare yourself off now, do you?"

She scowled. "I'm not scaring her off." She turned to Hermione. "I'm not scaring you off, am I?"

"I, uh…" Hermione's voice trailed off as she continued to stare incredulously at herself. "No?"

The other Hermione stuck her tongue out at Draco and said, "See? I told you." She grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her over to the couch, where they both proceeded to sit down. "We have so much to discuss!"

Draco took that as his cue to leave. "I'm going to head out for a while," he said. "I'll let you two get acquainted."

Hermione stared up at him with an uneasy look. "When will you be back?"

"I won't be gone long," he assured her. He turned to the other Hermione. "Behave yourself, Granger. I'd better not come back to find you've taken her off to _your_ world."

"And just how would I be able to do that, hmm?" she asked. "_You_ have the charm."

She was right; he was still wearing it around his neck. Nodding, he said to the girls, "Have fun. See you in a little while."

"Goodbye!" the other Hermione said, beaming.

Draco exchanged a small smile with _his_ Hermione before turning on his heel and heading toward the portrait hole.

It was nearing the end of the school day, so Draco had to act fast if he wanted to catch Harry getting out of class. He headed straight for Snape's classroom, since Potions was Harry's last class that day. He still had about fifteen minutes until the bell rang, but he quickened his pace regardless. He wanted to make this as easy as possible for himself – meaning he didn't want to have to search all around the castle for the scarhead.

He was just rounding the corner near the classroom when he bumped into Blaise.

"Hey!" Blaise snapped. "Watch where you're -"

The boy stopped when he realized it was _Draco_ who had run into him.

"Oh, hey," he said with a smirk. "Draco, old pal, how have you been?"

Words could not adequately describe the contempt he was feeling for Blaise Zabini at the moment. With everything that had happened in the last couple of days, he'd practically forgotten about him. Draco hadn't seen him around the halls since the Veritaserum incident, so he figured he was still under house arrest. But apparently, judging from the fact he was standing right in front of Draco, he was a free man now.

"I am not your _pal, _Zabini," Draco growled.

"Oh, but you were at one point. Don't you remember those good old days?"

Draco glared at him. There were so many things he wanted to say to Blaise; so many places on his body he wanted to either punch or kick. But he was currently on a mission – one more important than getting revenge on Blaise – so it would have to wait.

So he brushed past him, knocking into Blaise's shoulder in the process, making the boy stumble back slightly.

"Oh, come on, Draco," Blaise said as Draco began to walk away. "Aren't you even going to say goodbye to me?"

Draco stopped. He turned around, narrowing his eyes at him. "What do you mean, 'goodbye'?"

Blaise lifted an eyebrow. He motioned to the luggage that Draco hadn't even noticed he'd been carrying with him. "Haven't you heard? I've been expelled from Hogwarts. Unfortunately, it's against school rules to poison mudbloods."

Draco wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug grin off of Blaise's face, but luckily he was able to restrain himself.

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Draco said without an ounce of sincerity in his voice. "The part about you getting expelled, that is."

"Ah, it's okay," Blaise said with a shrug. "Luckily, I don't need a completed education to become a Death Eater."

Draco scoffed, shaking his head. "I feel bad for you, Zabini."

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

"Because you're a tool," Draco replied. "You'll become a Death Eater, and you will follow the Dark Lord's orders like a good little minion, all the while believing that he actually gives a shit about you. You'll go to war for him, but your side will lose. If you don't die during battle, you'll get sent to Azkaban where you will spend the rest of your pathetic, soulless existence being tortured with the realization that your life could have gone so differently if only you hadn't ventured down the wrong path so early in life." He paused for a moment, staring at his former best friend. He couldn't see the boy that was standing right in front of him. All he could see was what he would one day become.

"Blaise," he said softly, "it's not too late."

Blaise, who had been clinging to every single word Draco spoke, scoffed. "It's a lot later than you think, old friend." He pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the Dark Mark on his forearm.

Draco shook his head sadly. He wasn't shocked to find that Blaise had already been initiated as a Death Eater. He was, however, gravely disappointed.

"So I guess I'll be seeing you in battle, then," Blaise said, patting Draco on the shoulder. "Take care, Draco."

Surprisingly, his voice was not completely devoid of emotion. In fact, Draco could detect that the boy was being somewhat sincere. Those were probably the last sincere words he would ever speak.

Draco watched as Blaise strolled down the hallway, whistling merrily along the way. He could honestly say he was glad to see Blaise go, especially since Hermione would be resurrected, so to speak, within the next couple of days. He viewed Blaise's departure as one less person he'd have to worry would harm her.

He probably would have stood there for a moment longer mourning the fact that he had lost his best friend to the Death Eaters, but the bell rang, indicating the end of class. Quickly, Draco bolted around the corner and ran over to the door of Snape's classroom, dodging students as they began to exit.

Harry emerged from the classroom with Ron by his side, both engaged in what was probably a really boring conversation. They both seemed oblivious to Draco, until he spoke up.

"Potter," he hissed, tapping Harry on his shoulder.

Harry spun around to face him with an infuriated look on his face. "Malfoy," he spat. "Why the hell weren't you in class? Have you forgotten that we are working on a project together?"

"What the fuck, Potter," Draco said impatiently. "What's the big deal? We've already _finished_ our project."

"No," Harry said. "_I_ finished it. You didn't even attempt to help me."

"You didn't even give me a _chance_ to help you, you bloody git!" Draco said defensively. "And you haven't even asked me how everything went with Granger."

"I had Dumbledore fill me in," Harry said. "I try not to speak to you if I don't have to."

Ron snorted. Draco scowled.

"You'd better watch it, Potter, or else I won't show you what I was going to show you."

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "What are you talking about?"

Draco sighed. "There's something very important that I need to show you - _all_ of you. So we'll need to go round up the Weaslette and her little spacey friend."

"We will do no such thing," Ron said, glaring at him. "We're not going to get them involved until you tell us what it is you want to show us."

"What's wrong, Weasel? You don't trust me?"

"You bet your arse I don't," Ron grumbled.

But Harry was glancing at him curiously. "Ginny and Luna are supposed to be meeting us here in a few minutes. They just got out of Transfiguration."

"_Harry,_" Ron hissed.

Harry held up his hand to silence him. "If you don't want to see what Malfoy wants to show us, Ron, then you are free to stay behind. But I, for one, am very curious."

Draco smirked. "You made the right choice, Potter. And Weasley, if you know what's good for you, you'd better come along too."

"Is that a _threat_?" Ron said, his freckled face turning red.

"Nobody is being threatened," Draco said. "I'm merely trying to say that you will be pleasantly surprised by what I'm going to show you, and I would hate for you to miss it."

"Miss what?" piped up a feminine voice.

Draco spun around to see that Ginny and Luna had snuck up behind him. Ginny was glancing at him quizzically, while Luna was staring at the wall with what could only be described as intense interest.

"Malfoy here wants to show us something," Ron replied, "but he won't tell us what it is, and frankly I don't trust him."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh honestly, Ronald."

"_What?_" Ron said in exasperation. "Have you all gone completely mad? Why am I suddenly the only one questioning Malfoy's sudden interest in showing us something that is supposedly _good_?"

"Good things come to those who wait," Luna said quietly. She tore her gaze away from the wall and stared at Draco with her big eyes. "I'm interested in seeing what you have to show us."

"Me too," Ginny said.

"Same here," said Harry.

Ron stared at all of his friends in horror, but finally decided to give in. "Fine! I'll go, too. But don't complain when I have to keep telling you _'I told you so'!"_

Everyone ignored Ron as they began to follow Draco back to the Heads tower. Whenever one of them would ask him to give them a clue as to what kind of surprise they were in for, he just told them to be quiet. He was surprised that they had all followed him so willingly – well, all of them except for Ron – but he figured that perhaps if _Harry_ had been able to pick up on his feelings for Hermione, then probably the rest of them had been able to as well. And they probably all figured that if he was once in love with Hermione Granger, he couldn't be all _that_ bad.

When they arrived at the portrait, Marius groaned at the sight of them all. "_More_ guests, Mr. Malfoy?"

"What does he mean by _more_?" asked Ginny.

"He already has _two_ girls in there," Marius said. He crossed his arms, stuck his nose in the air and said, "_Humph_."

Draco glared at the knight, hoping he wouldn't give away the surprise too soon.

"_Two_ _girls_?" Ginny said, scrunching up her face. "Ew. Malfoy, why did you bring here us to see _two girls_?"

Suddenly, Ron was looking a little less irritated, and a lot more interested.

Draco sighed. "Sugarplum, Marius. Open the damn door."

Marius obeyed, but said in a huffy voice, "One of these days, you will learn to respect your portraits!"

Draco stood aside and ushered everyone inside. "Stay here," he demanded, wanting to check out the common room first before they headed in.

Neither of the Hermiones were in the room, and for a brief moment Draco panicked. Where the hell could they have gone? But then he heard laughter coming from the direction of Hermione's bedroom, and he sighed in relief.

"So who are these girls, anyway?" Ron asked casually.

Draco ignored him as he headed for Hermione's room. Her door was shut, so he knocked on it.

"Hey," he called to her through the door. "I'm back. Open up."

"Just a second!" Hermione called back. He wasn't sure which one, though.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Luna slowly made their way over to Draco.

"That voice," Harry said. "It sounds like -"

Suddenly, the bedroom door flew open and Hermione – _their_ Hermione – appeared before them with a grin on her face. The other Hermione bounced over to the door, giggling

"Hey! We were just -"

Hermione stopped when she saw the crowd of people behind him.

Ginny gasped, while Harry and Ron's jaws hit the floor. Luna tilted her head sideways and said, "Hmm," in a dreamy voice.

"Mione," Harry whispered. "What…how…what?"

Draco took hold of Hermione's hand and led her out of the room. "It's a really long story – one that I'm sure she will be willing to tell you all. But for now...this is what I wanted to show you," he said. "_Hermione_. _Our_ Hermione."

Everyone stared at her with looks of confusion. Draco smirked at the thought of what must have been going on in all of their heads, seeing two Hermiones, wondering how _theirs_ could be standing there before them.

But nobody was about to question it just yet.

"Oh Merlin," Ginny said, covering her mouth with her hands. Draco could see the tears forming in her eyes. "_Mione?_ It's really you?"

Hermione smiled and nodded. "It's really me, Gin."

That's all that the redheaded girl needed to hear. She immediately lunged forward, throwing her arms around Hermione's neck. "It's you! It's really you! But _how?_"

Hermione giggled, hugging Ginny back forcefully. "Like Malfoy said, it's a long story. Let's just say for now that I'm alive. In fact…I was never even dead to begin with."

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured. Slowly, he walked over closer to Hermione. He grabbed a hold of Ginny and said, "Sod off, sis. Save some hugging for the rest of us."

Ginny glared at her brother, but instinctively let go of Hermione.

"Mione," Ron breathed. "I can't believe…I don't understand."

"I'm not surprised, Ronald," Hermione said, pulling him into a friendly embrace. "You don't understand a _lot_ of things."

"Hey!" he said defensively. But he hugged her back tenderly, blushing the entire time.

"Hermione, it's great to have you back," Luna said, after Ron was done with his hug. She looked over Hermione's shoulder at the other one. "You too, Hermione."

The other Hermione smiled uncomfortably as suddenly everyone's gaze was upon her.

"What are _you_ doing back here?" Ron asked her. "And what are_ you_ doing alive?" he asked the _real_ Hermione. "None of this is making any sense! This is all just an elaborate trick of Malfoy's!"

"Weasley, shut the hell up," Draco said.

Hermione chuckled. "It's no trick, Ron. In a nutshell: I never died. Dumbledore just wanted you all to _think_ I had died, for my protection. Meanwhile, I just spent the last two months in the Room of Requirement, in a coma until Malfoy found me and woke me up. See? It's all so simple, really."

Ron stared at her, dumbfounded, as did the rest of her friends. Everyone except for Harry, that is.

Draco watched as Hermione's gaze fell upon her best friend, as if she hadn't quite seen him until just now. He watched as her face turned a slight shade of red…as a pleasant smile slowly crept over her face.

"Hello, Harry," she said quietly.

Harry said nothing. He just took two steps forward and threw his arms around her, his shoulders shaking slightly as if he were crying.

Hermione held onto him tightly as she began to tear up herself. And suddenly, Draco could no longer watch this little reunion.

Quietly, he crept away, heading for his bedroom. He figured it would be nice of him to give her some alone time with her friends. But really, he just couldn't stand the sight of Hermione and Harry embracing.

He entered his room and was about to shut the door when the other Hermione placed her hand upon it, keeping it open.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked.

"Not at all," he mumbled, motioning her inside. "Be my guest."

She gave him a relieved smile and walked into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. "That was a bit awkward," she said.

"Tell me about it," Draco said, plopping down onto his bed.

"That girl is so lucky," she said sadly, sitting down next to him. "To have friends who are so happy to see her. Did I tell you how they reacted to _me_ when I arrived back home in _my_ world?"

Draco shook his head.

"They didn't react to me at all," she replied quietly. "Apparently, they want nothing to do with me."

"I'm sorry," Draco muttered.

"Oh, I'm not," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "I mean, they were all once my best friends, and I loved them. But they had already abandoned me a long time ago, so it didn't really affect me as much as it should have. Besides, I had Draco. And Pansy and Blaise. So it was all good."

"I'm glad," Draco said, forcing a smile.

"Hey, cheer up," Hermione said, placing a hand on his knee. "That hug you just witnessed out there is nothing but a friendly hug. Trust me on this. I just spent the last half hour or so with the girl. I know where her heart is right now."

Draco chuckled. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Hermione replied with a grin. "And you have nothing to worry about." She paused for a moment, and then giggled. "She is so great. And I'm not just saying that because I'm biased. She really is one of a kind – which is really weird for me to say, seeing as though I'm another version of her. But still – she's funny, she's smart, she's just…amazing. And do you know what the first thing was that she wanted to do with me? Try on each other's clothes!"

Draco laughed. "Well, that _has_ always been one of her fantasies."

"It was always one of mine too," she said. "Having a twin is great. Too bad I'll never get to see her again." Her smile faded slightly as she stared down at her hands in her lap.

Draco's laughter subsided. "Oh yeah…that's right. The connection will be lost after this trip, right?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. And then I'll never see either one of you again."

Draco found himself actually regretting that fact. He had grown to like this Hermione, though not nearly as much as _his_ Hermione, and he would indeed miss her greatly when she was gone.

They sat in somber silence for a while, listening to the excited voices outside of the door. Not long after, however, the voices subsided and soon after that came a knock on Draco's door.

"Come in," he said.

Hermione opened the door slightly and poked her head in. "Hey! Why did you two leave?"

"Just giving you some alone time with your friends," Draco replied in a strained voice. "Speaking of which, where did everyone go?"

"Oh, they left. I told them that I was tired and that I would catch up with them a little later."

Draco nodded. "That's great."

The other Hermione smiled. "I'm so happy that everything has turned out so wonderfully here," she said. "But I should be going now."

"No!" Hermione protested. "But you practically just got here!"

"I've actually been here too long," she said, getting up from the bed. "The Ministry is probably wondering what happened to me. I should really go back before they come _here_ to retrieve me."

"Oh. Yeah," Hermione said, frowning. She walked over to her and embraced her. "Well I'm so glad that I got to meet you, at least."

"Me too," the other Hermione said, quickly wiping away her tears. "Gosh, I've only known you for such a short time, but I'm really going to miss you."

Hermione grinned. "I feel the same way."

Draco stood, removing the chain from his neck that held the charm. "Here," he said, handing it over to the other Hermione.

She shook her head. "No, you can keep it as a reminder of me, so that you'll never forget."

"I don't think that's possible," he said with a warm smile. He pulled her into a hug and whispered in her ear. "Take care, Granger. And please, take good care of the other me."

She giggled. "I'll be sure to keep him in line."

He grinned as he pulled away slightly. He stared down at her. "Thank you, Granger. Thank you for everything."

"It was my pleasure," she said, letting go of him. She reached out and placed her hand over his – the one that was holding the charm. _"Aperio."_

The portal appeared before them for one last time.

"Wow," Hermione breathed, staring at it in wonder. "That's beautiful."

The other Hermione grinned. "It is, isn't it?" She glanced at Draco, and then over at Hermione. "I wish you both all the best."

"Thank you," Draco said.

She smiled. She turned to enter the portal, but Hermione immediately stopped her. "Wait!"

The other Hermione stopped and turned around, looking at her curiously.

"I want to give_ you_ something!" Hermione said. Quickly, she ran out of the room, leaving the other Hermione and Draco to exchange a quizzical look. A few seconds later, she came running back into the room, with one of her muggle shirts in her hand.

"I want you to have this," she said, handing it to the girl.

Draco smirked, knowing exactly why she was giving away a piece of her clothing.

The other Hermione seemed to get it as well. Grinning, she took the shirt, and then proceeded to remove her _own_ shirt, leaving her with just a tank top on, and handed it to Hermione.

They were sharing their clothes.

"Thank you," Hermione said, beaming. She gave her twin one last hug. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye," the other Hermione said sweetly. She glanced over at Draco. "You treat her right, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," Draco said with a smirk.

And then she entered the portal, and she was gone. Forever.

Draco and Hermione let out a collective sigh at the sudden empty feeling that filled the room.

"It's been such a long day," Hermione said suddenly.

Draco nodded in agreement. "That it has."

"So I'll be rejoining all of my classes tomorrow."

"I figured as much."

"It's going to be a very interesting three months."

"Very interesting, indeed."

They both walked out of his bedroom and headed for the common room.

When they passed by her room, Hermione said, "You know what's weird? The fact that you were able to enter my room to get my teddy bear. Whatever happened to the spell I had cast upon it earlier this year? The one that was supposed to keep other people out?"

Draco shrugged. "Your 'death' must have somehow voided it. You must have lost your connection to the spell. I hope you don't mind that I went in there to get it?"

"Oh, no," she said. "Not at all. I mean, it's not like you went in there and read my diary or anything."

Draco practically tripped over his own feet. He gulped. "Yeah…uh…"

Hermione burst out laughing. "Don't pretend like you didn't read it, Malfoy. Hermione told me everything."

Silently, he cursed the other Hermione for having a big mouth. "Look, Granger, I didn't want to, but…well, _she _made me do it!"

"Save it," Hermione said, holding up a hand to silence him. "Unless you tell me that she held a wand to your head and threatened to Avada you unless you read it, I really don't care to hear your excuse."

Draco sighed. "She…held a wand to my head and threatened to Avada me?"

"Nice try," she said, poking his arm playfully. She gave an overly exaggerated sigh. "I guess I'm going to have to find a new hiding place for it now."

Draco was shocked at how carefree she was being about the whole thing. She didn't even seem upset with him about it.

"You're not angry?"

"Angry?" she said. "No. Humiliated? Definitely. I take it you probably read what I wrote about _you_."

"I did," he said slowly.

"Everything?"

"Pretty much."

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I'm such a loser."

Draco smirked. He reached over and gently pried her hands away, taking them into his own. "You're not a loser. I very much enjoyed everything you wrote about me. Well, excluding everything you wrote for the first month or so, that is."

She chuckled. "Sorry about that," she mumbled.

"Nothing to be sorry about, Granger. I was a complete git to you. Considering that fact, I'd say you were quite generous in your descriptions of me. But…perhaps you were a _bit_ more generous later on in your entries."

She began to blush. "You mean, all that stuff about how I -"

"About how you were madly in love with me and wanted to have my babies? Yeah, that's what I meant." he teased.

"Oh, shut up!" she exclaimed, pushing his shoulder playfully.

Draco chuckled. "It's okay, Granger, because I was madly in love with you too."

They both froze at his words. Hermione's eyes widened a bit as she gazed up at him in surprise.

"In fact, I still am," he continued softly. He didn't even think before saying it. The words just rolled off the tip of his tongue as if they were the easiest words he had ever spoken in his life.

"Well what do you know," she said softly. "Yet _another_ thing we have in common."

Draco sighed. It felt good to get these things out in the open. Finally.

"You know," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist, "that Luna girl said something very profound earlier. And I think it applies perfectly to _us_ right now."

"Oh yeah?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow. "What did she say?"

"She said, '_good things come to those who wait'_."

Hermione closed her eyes and smiled dreamily. "I always knew Luna was a smart girl. She _is_ a Ravenclaw, after all."

Draco chuckled. He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. He rested his forehead against hers, and brushed a hand against the side of her face. He gazed deeply into her eyes, and he began to fall in love with her all over again.

He was _really_ looking forward to the next three months.

* * *


	30. Before Sunrise

**Author's Note:** My boyfriend and I were joking about how this story is going to have about as many endings as the Lord of the Rings: Return of the King did. Well, not quite as many, but you can consider this chapter here epilogue #1 of 2. You may be asking yourself, does this story really need two epilogues? The answer is, yes – of course it does! Because, as I have stated before, I am incapable of making a long story short. So, uh…sue me! 

Thanks once again for all of the reviews/cookies/other assorted baked goods! You are all truly the wind beneath my wings.

**Disclaimer:** jksdfnsadfdsakl.

* * *

_**June 19th, 1998**_

The next three months flew by fairly quickly.

The same day Hermione returned to her classes, so did Draco. He was almost as far behind in his classes as _she_ was, but once he started attending them again, it barely took him any time at all to catch up – mostly due to the late night study sessions he had with Hermione every evening in their common room. He was lucky all of his professors agreed to let him make up the work. He figured he most likely had Dumbledore to thank for that.

He and Harry had received an O for their Veritaserum project. He could only imagine how hard it had been for Snape to give them such a good grade, but the quality of their potion could not be denied, since it had worked beautifully on the other Hermione. Draco had expected Harry to inform Snape of the fact he hadn't helped at all with the development of the potion, but he didn't. When Draco asked him why he hadn't, he had just shrugged and said simply, "Because you gave me back my best friend."

The students were all surprised by Hermione's return, but perhaps not as much as they _would_ have been, had the other Hermione never shown up. Most of the students from the other houses seemed disinterested at best in her return, but the Gryfinndor house threw a huge party in her honor - one that Draco was not invited to, of course.

All of Hermione's friends were thrilled with the fact she was still alive, but no one more so than Ginny, who had practically attached herself to Hermione's hip as soon as she returned. In fact, the only times Draco ever saw Hermione without Ginny hanging around her was when she was in class, and when she was alone with him at night, studying. As much as it annoyed Draco, Hermione didn't seem to mind at all. She said Ginny's sudden attachment to her most likely had a lot to do with the argument they'd had before the attack, when Ginny had said some pretty horrible things to her. Draco thought that theory made a lot of sense, because it was the same one _he'd _had when Ginny had welcomed the other Hermione with open arms.

Draco and Hermione's relationship proceeded to be an interesting one. In the comfort of their own tower, they considered themselves to be a couple. However, they chose to keep their relationship a secret in public, just to be on the safe side. When they passed by each other in the hallways, they would not acknowledge each other. They would not speak to each other unless a class assignment required they do so. Occasionally, for fun, they would throw a glare each other's way during meals in the Great Hall, hoping that they wouldn't appear too fake to anyone who might have been watching them at the moment. Not even Hermione's friends knew of their relationship…until late one evening in mid-April, when Ron had stumbled upon them kissing in a secluded section of the library. The horrified and disgusted expression on his face had been priceless, but he hadn't looked surprised in the least. He had just rolled his eyes, groaned, and stomped off without saying a word, leaving both Draco and Hermione in a hysterical fit of laughter. Ron, of course, had gone right back to Ginny and Harry and told them. They didn't seem too surprised about it, either.

The rest of the year had played out remarkably well. Nothing seemed to pose a threat to Hermione. Draco wasn't sure if it was because of the protective spells Dumbledore had cooked up for her, or if it was because no one was interested in harming her anymore. He figured it was the former, rather than the latter – although he would have loved to believe that she was no longer a target to anyone. It was helpful that Blaise was no longer attending the school, though Draco was sure many of the Slytherins were still close with him and kept him well informed. But Hermione was right – as long as she was inside the castle, there was very little chance anyone could harm her. Especially with Draco around, since he had become her unofficial bodyguard. After she'd resumed her Head Girl duties, he'd kept a firm hold on her hand every night they patrolled the dark halls – a major improvement from the times he used to leave her alone in the dark. And most nights, he would make her sleep in his bedroom – he'd give her the bed, while he slept on the floor.

Every night, they would both fall asleep to the soft sound of the music box he had given her for Christmas.

They both worked extremely hard on their schoolwork for the remaining three months, and despite the fact they had been so far behind, they both managed to come out on top, as Valedictorian and Salutatorian of their class - Hermione, of course, being the Valedictorian. A few years ago, Draco hated her for being one rank above him in grades, but now he couldn't have been more proud of her. And just a few hours before, they had both received their diplomas, and were now official graduates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The ceremony had been long and boring – not that Draco had paid much attention to it, anyway. He'd been too busy sneaking glances at the Head Girl, who sat next to him, grinning from ear to ear. But despite the happy occasion, Draco was having a hard time mustering up any sort of happy feelings at all, because the very next day, Hermione would be leaving – going back to live as a Muggle, traveling to who-knows-where for who-knows-how-long. Sure, this was what Draco had thought he had wanted for her months ago, because it seemed like the safest choice. But now that she was actually going to be leaving, he was having a very difficult time dealing with the reality of it.

But there he was, hours after the graduation ceremony, acting as though he didn't have a care in the world – because if he didn't act that way, he probably would have gone insane.

The Hogwarts staff had arranged for a post-graduation party in the Room of Requirement that night that would stretch out until early the next morning. The room looked a lot different than it had three months before. It was now tripled in size, and full of the entire graduating class – Gryffindors, Slytherins, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs alike. There was a live band – one that Draco had never heard of before – located on a stage at the far end of the room, and some of the students were dancing, while others were either huddled in groups talking, or finding other ways to entertain themselves. Although alcoholic beverages had been strictly prohibited, many of the students (mostly Slytherins) had found a way around the rule, simply sneaking their own beverages in and disguising them as water. None of the professors caught on, because none of the professors were even there. Apparently, it was their gift to the graduating class: an unsupervised celebration.

As Draco watched Crabbe and Goyle – who were completely wasted – falling over each other and into other students repeatedly, he realized that their gift had been a really _unwise_ one.

But perhaps not as unwise as Draco's choice to spend the evening hanging out at one of the tables with Hermione and her little group of friends, who couldn't have been any duller if they had been _asleep_. Of course, Draco wanted to spend as much time with Hermione as possible, but her friends were driving him absolutely nuts, discussing their big plans of becoming Aurors and what they were going to do over the summer, and blah blah blah. And of course, Hermione wanted to spend as much time as she could with her friends, because it would be the last time she'd be seeing them for a while.

Draco was practically falling asleep at the table, when Parvati Patil ran over to them, squealing, "A bunch of us are about to play spin-the-goblet! Who's in?"

Ginny's face lit up. "That sounds fantastic!" She turned to Hermione and grabbed her hand. "C'mon, Hermione, let's join!"

Draco's hand automatically shot out and grabbed Hermione's arm before she could get up and join Ginny. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to object," he said sternly.

Harry glanced at him from the other side of the table and nodded. "Me too," he said to Ginny. "The only boy you will be kissing tonight will be me."

He pulled her face down to his and gave her a tender kiss on the lips. She smiled briefly, and then pouted. "You guys are no fun. It's just a harmless game."

Draco sighed in annoyance. "Weaslette, what are you even doing here? _You_ didn't graduate."

Ginny glared at him and said, "Excuse me, ferret, but my _brother_ just graduated, not to mention my _boyfriend _and my _best friend_, so I have every right to be here. Besides, I was invited."

Draco smirked. "How wonderful for you. But that does not give you permission to whisk my girlfriend away to play kissing games with other boys."

Ginny giggled and turned to Hermione. "He just called you his _girlfriend_," she said in a singsong voice, playfully poking Hermione's arm.

Hermione blushed and smiled over at Draco. He hadn't _mean_t to refer to her as his girlfriend, even though she very much _was_, and even though everyone at the table was _aware_ that she was. But still, he usually tried to refrain from using the term, because it always made Ron groan miserably.

Ron groaned miserably. "Why must you insist on calling her that?"

"Because considering how much she and I make out, it would be weird to refer to her as anything else," Draco replied, very much enjoying watching Ron's complexion turn slightly green.

Now it was Harry's turn to groan. "Where's an obliviate memory spell when you need one? I'd really like to forget you just said that."

Hermione playfully punched Draco's arm. "He was joking, Harry."

Draco arched an eyebrow at her seductively. "I joke about a lot of things, Granger, but kissing you is not one of them." He reached out and took her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers.

Hermione grinned, squeezing his hand slightly.

As Ginny sat back down, and everyone quickly changed the subject, Draco glanced down at his watch. When he realized what time it was, he glanced up at Ginny and said, "Hey, Weaslette, would you mind if I borrowed your conjoined twin for a little while?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Very funny, _ferret_," she said wryly, but then blushed when she realized she had absentmindedly locked arms with Hermione just moments before. Quickly, she let go and shrugged. "Fine. Whatever. If she'd prefer to spend time with _you_."

Draco would have never admitted it out loud, but he thought Ginny's tendency to cling to Hermione was cute – and he could certainly relate. It was a protective thing, as if holding onto her in some way would keep her safe. And for that reason, it was hard to let go.

Hermione giggled. "Thanks, Gin."

Ron scowled. "So you _would_ prefer to spend time with him!"

Draco reached over and tousled Ron's red locks. "No offense, Weasley, but I have something better to offer her than _you _guys do."

Hermione glanced at him curiously. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"It's a surprise," he said, standing up from the table. He tugged at her arm, helping her up from her chair. Turning to everyone at the table, he said, "Don't worry, I'll get her back to you before the train ride tomorrow."

Ron grumbled, while Harry and Ginny just shrugged, trying to pretend like they didn't care. Hermione waved cheerfully to them as he quickly whisked her away.

She trailed behind him, struggling to keep up with him as he took quick, long strides. He headed straight out of the Room of Requirement and began to lead her down the hallway.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Draco glanced back at her with a smirk. "Do you need a dictionary to define the word 'surprise' for you? Honestly, Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Have I ever mentioned I don't like surprises?"

"Have I ever mentioned that I really don't care whether you do or not?"

"Why are you such a git?"

Draco stopped suddenly in his tracks – so suddenly, that Hermione had no time to slow down, and she ran right into him.

"Why don't you stop talking," he hissed in a mocking tone.

"Why don't you make me," she said teasingly; a hint of a smile played at her lips.

Draco stared down at those lips and suddenly felt the urge to kiss her. He grabbed onto her shoulders lightly and began to back her up against the stone wall until her back was flat against it. He wasted no time in capturing her lips with his, in a deep, intoxicating kiss that a few minutes later left them breathless when they parted.

Hermione giggled as he moved lower, placing soft kisses on her neck. "Is this your surprise? Seducing me in the hallway?"

"No," Draco replied, kissing her lips once again. "But I'm currently considering changing my plan."

"No way," she said, abruptly pushing him away. "You've got me too curious now."

Draco sighed. "Okay, fine. Let's go."

Grabbing her hand once again, he led her through the dark halls, with only the light on his wand to guide them. A few minutes later, they reached their destination, and they found themselves standing at the foot of a tall, winding staircase.

Hermione glanced up at him with an amused expression. "The Astronomy Tower? _That's _your surprise? Sorry to disappoint you, Malfoy, but I've already seen the Astronomy – many times, in fact. So it's not really going to be a surprise at all -"

"You're talking too much again," he said simply, pulling her up the stairs.

"Sorry," she mumbled, not sounding sorry in the least. In fact, he could have sworn he could hear her struggling to stifle a giggle.

When they finally made it to the top, he swung open the door and motioned for her to go inside.

The room looked as it always had – only darker. Hermione stepped inside and glanced all around, as if searching for something.

"So where is my surprise?" she asked. "Is there a puppy hiding in here somewhere?"

"I thought you were more of a cat person."

She gasped. "You got me a _kitten_?"

Draco ignored her teasing and grabbed her hand once again, leading her over to the tower's window.

She faltered a bit in her steps. "Wait…you're not going to make me jump out the window, are you?"

Draco arched an eyebrow. "So you _do_ remember your dreams!"

"Just bits and pieces, really," she said. "But yes, I do remember the part where you made me jump. I'm still mad at you for that, you know."

"For crying out loud, Granger, it was just a dream. Get over it."

"Make me."

"You do realize that every time you say 'make me', I'm going to kiss you."

"That's what I was hoping for."

Seeing as though, judging from the darkness of the room, they still had some time left, he pulled her close and kissed her gently…sweetly…savoring every moment as though it were their last.

Hermione sighed as she laced her fingers through his hair. She pulled away from him slightly and whispered, "I really like your surprise."

He chuckled softly and briefly captured her lips again. "You're so easy to please. But this isn't your surprise. I can't give it to you yet."

She pouted as she buried her face in his chest. They held onto each other tightly, feeling the soft pounding of their hearts against their chests. Draco could have sworn at one point the beats matched, as if their hearts were perfectly in synch.

He sighed as he embraced her tightly, pulling her in as close to him as he could. He could smell the sweet, fruity scent of her hair, he could feel the soft curves of her body, and he could feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in deeply. He could have stayed like that forever. And he began to wonder how in hell he would be able to let her walk out of his life in the next few hours.

Suddenly, she stiffened against him. She lifted up her head to gaze up at him, and he noticed a slightly apprehensive look on her face.

"Draco," she said softly. "What are you doing?"

He glanced down at her curiously. "Right now? I'm enjoying the feel of your body up against mine." He smirked.

She shook her head. "No, I don't mean right now. I mean…after this. In less than ten hours, we'll be boarding the Hogwarts Express - and then what? Where are you going? What do you plan on doing?"

Draco sighed, releasing his hold on her. He'd been hoping she wouldn't ask that question. In fact, he'd been trying very hard not to ask it himself.

"I honestly have no idea," he replied softly. He moved away from her slightly and stared out the window at the world that was still dark, yet on the verge of light. "My whole life, I was so sure I'd grow up to be a Death Eater, like my father. It was pretty much a given that I would. But then he died, and suddenly I wasn't so interested in that prospect anymore. So now…now I have no idea what I'll do. To be honest, I really haven't given it all that much thought."

"Then come with me," Hermione blurted out.

He spun around to face her, not sure if he'd heard her correctly. "_What_?"

She took a step closer to him. "I've given this a lot of thought – three months worth, to be exact. At first, when I returned as Head Girl, I wasn't sure where things would lead to between you and me. I wasn't sure if it was just a momentary thing – something I would be able to give up in the end…or if it was something special – something I don't think I could live without for the rest of my life."

Draco's breath hitched in his throat. "And? Which did it turn out to be?"

"Well, I just asked you to come with me, didn't I? _You_ figure it out." She smirked.

Draco let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. He ran a hand through his hair and began to pace. "You're asking me to go with you…to the _Muggle_ world?"

"That's exactly what I'm asking," she replied with a nod. "Look, I know this is a long shot. I know how you feel about Muggles, and everything having to do with them, but I just know that if I didn't at least ask you, I would regret it for the rest of my life -"

"Yes," Draco said suddenly, the word popping out before he even realized he was going to say it.

Hermione blinked in shock. "Yes? You mean…"

Draco nodded. "Hermione, I spent two whole months this year knowing what it's like to live without you. And to be perfectly honest, I don't like it very much at all. And now that I have you back, the thought of never seeing you again, or never being able to touch or kiss you again…I don't like that, either. So if you're asking me to go with you – _wherever_ – then my answer is yes."

Hermione brought a hand up to her mouth and stifled a squeal. "Really?" she asked, blinking back tears.

"Yes, really."

"Oh!" she cried, literally jumping into his arms and planting a kiss firmly on his lips. He picked her up and twirled her around, grinning like a fool the entire time.

"I'm so glad you said yes!" she exclaimed. "I already talked to my parents about it, just in case, and they agreed to let you stay at our house for the summer, until the fall when…well, when we go do whatever we decide to do. And I already -"

"Granger, be quiet," he demanded, suffocating her words with a kiss. She didn't seem to mind.

A few moments later, they broke apart. Draco glanced over at the window and realized that his surprise was almost ready.

"Come here," he said to her softly, leading her over to the large window. "Take a seat," he instructed her, motioning to the windowsill.

She obeyed, all the while glancing over at him curiously. "What are we doing?"

"We," he replied, sitting down next to her, "are going to watch the sunrise."

Hermione smiled. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"Our dream," he replied. "I was going to show you the sunrise, but we were pressed for time."

"Ah," she said, glancing out the window. She smiled. "I like this surprise."

Draco leaned up against the side of the window and stared at the horizon, which had lightened up considerably since they'd arrived up at the tower. The early hours of the morning were upon them.

They sat in silence, watching, waiting. As soon as the sky began to light up with deep hues of purple, blue and pink, Hermione gasped and said, "This is so beautiful. The view from here is amazing."

Draco nodded in agreement, glancing over at her as she stared ahead in awe. The sunrise was indeed beautiful, but it paled in comparison to the girl who was so enthralled by it.

"I know this isn't the most exciting surprise in the world," he said sheepishly. "I just needed you to see this. I knew you would appreciate it."

"I do," she said softly. "I appreciate it on so many levels." She glanced sideways at him and shook her head slightly. "What did I ever do to get so lucky?"

Draco almost snorted, but stopped himself. _She_ thought _she_ was lucky? _He_ had just been asking himself the same question, regarding _himself_.

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Granger."

She sighed happily. "And I love _you_, Malfoy."

"All of our similarities are really starting to creep me out," he murmured into her hair. "It's just not normal."

She giggled and gave him a quick kiss. "You'd better return me to my friends now, before they send out a search party."

Draco groaned. "Do you really need to see them again?"

"Of course I do!" she said, jumping down from the window. "And then after that, I'll need to pack. So will you. We don't want to miss our train ride home."

"You're right about that," he said, getting down from the window himself. "I really don't want to have to spend any more time in this place than I have to. I'm through with this school."

Hermione smirked and took his hand. "You know you're going to miss it when we're gone."

Draco snorted. "I highly doubt that."

Hand in hand, they walked over to the door. Glancing back at the window, Draco noticed that the colors in the sky had dimmed remarkably as the sky brightened instead to a pale blue, bringing in the new day.

A few minutes later he dropped her off with her friends, who had returned to the Gryffindor tower, and proceeded to head back to his own tower to begin packing. He was surprised to find Dumbledore waiting for him outside the portrait hole.

"Sir," he said, greeting him.

"Draco," the old man said pleasantly. "I was just having a pleasant conversation with Marius here. He was telling me what a pleasure it was being your portrait this year."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the knight. "You're kidding."

Marius laughed. "Oh, I am surely going to miss you, Mr. Malfoy. I have enjoyed our quips and banter back and forth. You have certainly been the most entertaining Head Boy in years. Although, I must say, I will miss the Head Girl just a little bit more."

Dumbledore smiled at Marius. He turned to Draco and said, "I wanted to let you know that I received some news last night, regarding the Death Eater that attacked Miss Granger."

That peaked Draco's interest. "What news?"

"He was found dead in his cell earlier yesterday," Dumbledore replied. "Apparently Azkaban was too much for him to handle. He obviously was one of the Dark Lord's _weaker_ minions."

A wave of relief washed over Draco. He had been afraid Dumbledore was going to tell him that the Death Eater had escaped. "That's great news, sir."

Dumbledore nodded. "But I don't want this news giving anyone a false sense of security. Miss Granger is still planning on taking time off, correct?"

"Yes sir," Draco replied. "And I, uh…I'm going with her."

The old man's eyes widened in surprise. "Is that so? Well splendid – I am very happy to hear that. She will have a lot less to worry about, having you around to protect her."

"Yeah," Draco agreed. He glanced awkwardly at the portrait, then back to Dumbledore. "Well, I should go start packing…"

"Yes. Yes, indeed you should." Dumbledore extended his hand. "Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy. I wish you all the luck in the world."

"Thank you, sir," Draco said, shaking the Headmaster's hand firmly. And before he could stop himself, he hugged the old man – a very quick embrace, as he said, "Thank you for everything."

They both knew what Draco was thanking him for, which was for saving Hermione's life, and for keeping her safe. He would never forget that, and he vowed to someday find a proper way to repay him.

Dumbledore seemed touch by the gesture, but was nice enough not to acknowledge it as anything special. Instead, he just smiled, turned around and headed down the hall.

"Oh, I always knew you were all soft inside," Marius cooed from the portrait.

Draco glared at him. "Oh shut the hell up," he snapped. And one last time, he spoke the password. As he headed inside, he heard the sound of Marius chuckling softly.

* * *

Platform 9¾ was alive with students happily reuniting with their families, but one particular group apart from the rest was a bit more somber, because instead of reuniting, they were parting ways.

Draco stood awkwardly a few feet away, watching as Hermione said her tearful goodbyes to her best friends. None of them were certain when they would see each other again, so it was really a heartbreaking scene to watch. The Weaslette had turned on the waterworks during the train ride, and had yet to shut them off. She clung to Hermione for dear life, muttering incoherantly. Ron stood stone-faced, trying not to show any emotions – but it was obvious to Draco that he was quite affected by Hermione's departure. Luna looked like her normal, spacey self, though perhaps a bit more solemn. And Harry…well, Harry looked like he was losing his best friend.

Draco had not viewed Harry as a threat to his relationship with Hermione at all since she had returned. He was beginning to wonder if those feelings he was so sure that Harry had had, perhaps had just been a figment of his imagination all along. He'd seemed closer to Ginny the past three months than he ever had before, and when Ginny wasn't clinging onto Hermione, she was attached to Harry's lips. And Draco never once detected any sort of romantic feelings from Hermione toward Harry at all during those three months. She had appeared to be completely over him – and Draco hoped _he'd _maybe had a little something to do with that.

He watched as the two of them hugged now, and he was envious of Harry. Hermione may have been Draco's girlfriend now, but he still had a ways to go before he was as close to her heart as Harry was. But that fact didn't bother him anymore. He had the rest of his life with her to get there, and he would. One day.

A finger suddenly tapped him lightly on his shoulder, breaking him out of his reverie. He spun around to find Pansy standing there, a sheepish look on her face.

"Pansy," he said, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. "Hey."

"Hi, Draco. I uh…" Her voice trailed off, as her eyes darted around the platform. She appeared to be nervous or uncomfortable. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that they hadn't spoken much in the last three months, ever since Hermione had returned.

She cleared her throat and stood up straight, as if trying desperately to work up the nerve to say what she wanted to say. "I heard that you were going away. W-with Hermione."

"Yes…" Draco said hesitantly, not sure how she even knew about that. News apparently traveled very quickly at Hogwarts.

"Well, I…I just wanted to say that…I hope everything goes well for you in life. And…and I just wanted to say that Hermione Granger is a lucky girl." She blushed and glanced down at the ground. "And you're a very lucky guy. I'd say you two are perfect for each other."

He noticed tears beginning to form in her eyes, and Draco couldn't help but have an overwhelming urge to hug the girl. He knew it must have taken a lot for her to come over to speak to him, and to say those words to him. He suddenly found himself having a lot of respect for Pansy Parkinson.

"Thank you, Pansy," he said, and he reached out and pulled her into a friendly embrace. "And I hope everything goes well for you in life, too."

Pansy sniffled as she pulled away. "I'll never forget you, Draco Malfoy." And with that, she kissed him gently on the cheek, and quickly jogged away to join her parents without looking back.

He felt the presence of someone standing behind him, and felt a small, smooth hand slip into his. Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder and stared over in Pansy's direction.

"Are you ready?" she asked him.

Draco quickly swallowed a lump that had begun to form in his throat. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Harry came over him with an extended hand. "Malfoy."

"Potter," he said, shaking the boy's hand.

"This is the part where I'm supposed to tell you to take good care of her, but something tells me that I don't need to."

Draco nodded. "Not to worry, Potter. She's in good hands."

"I know," Harry said simply. "I trust you."

Draco smirked. Harry Potter trusted him. Hell had officially frozen over.

"This, of course, doesn't mean that we're friends now or anything," Harry added.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Draco said, letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief. Everyone around them chuckled.

Draco turned around to face the rest of Hermione's friends. "Weasel, Weaslette."

"We're not friends either, Malfoy," Ron said. "Ouch! Ginny, what the hell?"

Ginny, who had just pinched her brother's arm, stuck out her tongue at him, and then turned to Draco. "Malfoy, I honestly can't think of anyone I'd rather have Hermione travel the world with. Take care of her – and yourself." And to his surprise, she walked over to him and gave him a quick hug.

"Now leave – the both of you! Get out of our sights!" she said in a teasing voice, though the tears continued to flow.

Hermione grinned and hugged each and every one of her friends once more before returning to Draco and taking his hand. "Let's go."

Her parents were waiting for them on the other side of Platform 9¾ - the _Muggle_ side. When the Grangers saw them, they immediately beamed and waved at them excitedly.

"My mother is so thrilled you're coming to stay with us," Hermione informed him as they made their way over to her parents. "I think she has a bit of a crush on you."

Draco chuckled. He continued to watch as her parents eagerly awaited their arrival, and he felt a pang of regret. He'd never experienced such a warm welcome from a parent figure before. His own parents used to send servants to pick him up at the platform, instead of coming themselves. And his mother hadn't even shown up at the graduation ceremony the day before – perhaps she'd been too drunk to remember. Or perhaps, she just wasn't interested. Either way, Draco took it as a sign that she really didn't care, so instead of telling her about his plans in person, he sent her a note by owl. All it said was that he would be leaving for a long time, and he might never be coming back. He did not mention Hermione, he did not mention traveling the world. He had simply written that he was leaving, and then signed his name.

But it certainly looked as though the Grangers had enough parental love to go around. Needless to say, it would be an interesting summer.

And surprisingly enough, Draco couldn't wait to experience it.

* * *

Author's Note #2: Okay! One more chapter to go, and then this story is D.O.N.E.! Agh! I can't wait! 


	31. Epilogue

**Author's Note: **Well, today is my birthday, and I decided last week that my birthday present to myself would be to finish this story. So here it is, all wrapped up in pretty, shiny paper with a big bow on top. Can you guess what's inside? Fairly long author's note will be tagged on at the end. Thanks for reading!

**Disclaimer:** For the last time, I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

_**  
September 19th, 1998**_

"Bloody hell," Draco muttered under his breath as he stepped on the brake a little harder than he had intended, causing both himself and Hermione to lurch forward slightly in their seats. "Who the hell invented this stupid sport, anyway?"

Hermione gave a hearty laugh. "How many times do I have to tell you, Malfoy, that driving is not a _sport?_ And you're doing just fine, by the way."

"No, I'm not," he disagreed, shaking his head adamantly. "This has got to be the most ridiculous thing Muggles put themselves through."

"There are a lot worse things than driving, believe me," Hermione said with a grin.

Draco put the car in park, turned it off, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out of the car as quickly as he could. He was tempted to kick the front tire in frustration as he passed by, but somehow managed to restrain himself.

It was early evening, and they had just arrived back to the Granger's house after a long afternoon out and about in town. Hermione, who had gotten her driver's license over the previous summer, had gotten the crazy idea of letting Draco drive her parents' car down the vacant street to the Granger's house, because she thought it would be "fun" for him. For the first time in her life, she had been _terribly_ wrong about something.

It was Hermione's birthday, and Draco had suggested they catch a movie and go out for lunch – since her parents had planned a special dinner for her that evening. Well, at least, that was what they had told her. But Draco knew otherwise. He had not yet given her a birthday present – he had told her that he had _two_ for her, but they would have to wait for later. Glancing down at his watch, he realized it was already time for the first one.

"Well, I'll let _you_ be the one to drive us everywhere," he said as they started up the walkway.

"Thank God," she said teasingly. "I really have no desire to become road kill at such an early age."

"Hey," he said defensively. "My driving skills are not all _that_ terrible. But if they _are_, then I'm going to have to blame my driving instructor. She's a real pain in the-"

"Watch it, ferret," Hermione warned. "It's my birthday today, meaning you're not allowed to insult me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Birthdays do not grant you immunity from my insults, Granger. That's not fair."

"_Life_ isn't fair," she said, sticking out her tongue at him. "Deal with it."

Draco glanced as inconspicuously as he could through the living room window as they approached the front door, hoping everything inside would be in its place.

"Hey," he said, as Hermione stuck the key in the door and turned the knob. He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her closer to him. "I'd say that life is pretty fair for _me_, at least, considering the fact you've let me be your boyfriend."

"Aw," Hermione said, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Sometimes you say the sweetest things."

Draco groaned. "Don't remind me, please."

Hermione smirked and opened the door. As she stepped inside the house, she said, "Hmm, that's weird. Why is it so dark in here? Mum? Dad?"

"SURPRISE!"

Hermione jumped at the sound of multiple voices yelling out in unison, as the living room suddenly lit up, revealing not only her parents, but four other people as well.

She gasped and squealed as she looked around the room. "Harry! Ron! Ginny! Luna!"

"Hermione!" they all yelled out at once, quickly rushing over to her.

"What are you all doing here?" she asked as they all practically smothered her in a group hug.

"It's your birthday, silly!" Ginny replied. "Malfoy called us and invited us to your surprise party, and there was no way we were going to miss it!"

Hermione glanced over at Draco with an arched eyebrow. "This is all your doing?"

"It's wasn't _entirely_ my idea," he said. "Your parents had a lot to do with it as well."

Mrs. Granger smiled over at her daughter. "We just thought that you should have one more get together with your friends before you leave for Paris tomorrow. We didn't think there'd be any harm in inviting them over to see you."

Hermione beamed. "No harm at all," she agreed. She turned back to face her friends. "Oh, you guys! I'm so happy to see you all! What have you been up to all summer?"

Draco chose this moment to tune everything out, since he hardly cared at all to hear their boring summer vacation stories. So while Hermione listened intently to their ramblings, Draco headed for the kitchen to check on the birthday cake Mrs. Granger had baked while he was out with Hermione.

As he opened the refrigerator door, a voice behind him said, "Are you nervous?"

Draco pulled the cake out and set it on the counter. He glanced over at Mr. Granger, who had followed him into the kitchen, and said, "I don't think I've ever been this nervous in my entire life."

Mr. Granger smiled as he handed him a pastry bag filled with colored icing. Then, giving Draco an encouraging pat on the back, said, "I don't think you have anything to worry about, son. I honestly believe she will be able to say that this is the best birthday present she's ever received."

Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I really hope you're right, sir. But thank you for the encouragement either way."

Mr. Granger chuckled slightly. "I like you, Draco. My wife likes you. And Hermione…well, Hermione _loves_ you. I really don't think you need any encouragement at all. But just in case – I wish you luck."

"Thank you," Draco said with a smile.

"I'll stand guard," Mr. Granger said, standing by the kitchen doorway. "Make sure she doesn't try and come in here."

Draco nodded as he began working on the cake's final touches.

He could hear the excited voices of Hermione and her friends all the way in the kitchen, and it made him feel surprisingly happy. He and Hermione had spent all summer alone together, in the sense of not seeing anyone from school. And while they'd had a fine time (she had especially seemed entertained by watching him try and learn how Muggle things worked), he could always sense that she was saddened by the fact she was so distant from her best friends. That was the reason Draco had wanted to invite them over one last time – because the next day, he and Hermione would be boarding a plane to Paris, and their journey would begin. And their journey would take them far, far away from the people she loved dearly.

But hopefully their visit that day would hold her over for a while.

Draco was just finishing up the cake when he heard Hermione say, "Draco, what are you doing in here?"

He spun around quickly, standing in front of the cake, desperately attempting to hide it. He glanced over in exasperation at Mr. Granger, who had done a lousy job in guarding the kitchen.

But Mr. Granger acted fast, apprehending her at the doorway.

"I, uh, I'll be out in a second," he said, failing to think of a good excuse to give her.

But she accepted his promise. "Okay," she said, glancing at him curiously before heading back to the living room.

Quickly, Draco took the cake and placed it back in the refrigerator before heading back out to join the group.

Over the next hour or so, they all sat around and talked, and once more Draco found himself not paying much attention to any of them. Only now, it wasn't so much because he was uninterested in what they had to say, but because he had other things on his mind at the moment.

Eventually, it was time to hand out gifts, which Hermione had opened humbly, saying all the while that they didn't _have_ to get her presents.

Ron gave her a gift certificate to one of the local bookstores. "I originally bought you perfume," he said, "but Ginny informed me that it smelled only a little better than essence of Goyle. So, I thought I would give you the gift of reading instead."

Hermione giggled. "Well thank you, Ron! You know me all too well."

Everyone chuckled as she moved on to the next gift, from Luna. "It's…a compass?"

Luna nodded. "So that you will never lose your way. It's enchanted, too."

"Oh really? How so?"

Luna frowned. "Well…I don't know, really. The woman who sold it to me wouldn't tell me."

Ron snorted. "That's because she couldn't come up with a believable lie quickly enough. I doubt it's enchanted at all. _Ouch!"_

Ron glared over at his sister, who had just kicked him in the shin. Draco smirked. He was starting to like the Weaslette.

"Well, enchanted or not, I love it," Hermione assured Luna.

"Okay! Mine next!" Ginny exclaimed, handing a neatly wrapped box over to Hermione.

Excitedly, Hermione tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box. "A diary," she said simply. She exchanged an amused glance with Draco.

Ginny shook her head. "No, not just _any_ diary. It's a _two-way_ diary! See, they come as a set – I have the other one. It will be a way for us to keep in touch, without having to send letters, you see? All you do is write whatever you want to me, and then tap your quill three times on the page and say, 'send'. The words will disappear and be transferred to the pages of _my_ diary, where I will then read them, and respond to you the same way. Pretty neat, huh?"

"Ginny, it's amazing!" Hermione exclaimed. "Thank you!"

Finally, it was time for Harry's gift.

As Hermione began to unwrap it, he shrugged and said, "It's nothing special."

Hermione opened up the box and pulled out a simple picture frame. The picture in it was the same one Hermione had had on her nightstand, of herself, Ron and Harry. But a few seconds later, the picture changed, this time revealing a picture of herself and Ginny. In fact, the picture _continued_ changing, revealing a whole array of different photos.

Draco could see the tears welling up in her eyes as she stared down at the frame. "Harry, how could you say this isn't special?"

"I don't know," he mumbled. "It's just an enchanted frame. I collected as many photographs as I could from our own collections," he pointed to Ron, Ginny and Luna, "and then went to Colin Creevey for any photos that he might still have that he had taken of all of us over the years. So there will probably be ones you don't even recognize. I just thought perhaps this would prevent you from completely forgetting about us."

Hermione sniffled. "Oh, Harry, I absolutely love this. But I could never forget about _any_ of you!" She stood up and opened her arms wide – the universal language for _group hug_.

Once the embracing calmed down, Mrs. Granger said, "I think perhaps it's time for the birthday cake." She glanced over at Draco as she spoke the words. "I'll go get it."

Draco nodded. "I'll help you," he said, getting up and following her to the kitchen.

As he exited the room, he could hear Ron say in a disbelieving voice, "Did Malfoy just offer to _help_ someone?"

Draco chose to ignore him as he entered the kitchen.

Mrs. Granger pulled the cake out of the refrigerator and glanced down at it. "It looks wonderful, Draco. I cannot wait to see the look on her face." She began to light the nineteen candles that had been placed on top.

Draco breathed in and out slowly. He was not only nervous – he was _terrified_.

"Here, you take the cake," Mrs. Granger instructed, "and I'll go start everyone in on singing 'happy birthday' to her. Good luck, Draco." She gave him a brief hug and then left the room.

When he heard everyone begin to sing in the next room, he picked up the cake and carefully began to carry it out to the table in the dining room, where everyone now resided.

Hermione grinned widely as she saw him walk out with the cake. He grinned back, but quickly said, "Close your eyes, Hermione."

She obeyed, just in time for him to set the cake down in front of her. Ginny glanced down at it and gasped – causing Draco to shoot her a warning glare. Harry and Ron stared down at it with looks of discomfort and horror, respectively. And Luna…Luna just smiled dreamily down at it.

"Keep your eyes closed," Draco whispered in Hermione's ear. "Now, make a wish, and then blow the candles out. But don't open your eyes until I say so, all right?"

Hermione nodded. She appeared to be deep in thought for a few moments, and then leaned forward to blow the candles out.

"Now open them," Draco said softly.

Hermione grinned and her eyes flew open. The second her eyes focused on the top of the cake, they opened wide, staring down at it in disbelief.

There atop the cake, written in blue icing, were the words, '_Marry me, Hermione'._

The room was filled suddenly with excruciating silence as Draco held his breath, waiting for any sort of reaction from her.

At first, she appeared stunned. She stared down at the words, as if reading them over and over to make sure she was reading them right. And then she stared up at him, tears welling up in her eyes once again.

"Draco?" she whispered. "Is this…are you…?"

He nodded as her voice trailed off. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black box. He opened it up, revealing a beautiful diamond ring inside.

Instantly, he got down on one knee (he'd seen a man do this in one of the many god awful romantic comedy movies Hermione had dragged him to over the summer) and held out the opened box. "Hermione Jane Granger," he said, "Will you -"

"Yes," she blurted out before he even had a chance to finish his sentence, causing Ginny to let out a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a squeal.

"Oh," Hermione said quickly, "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't even let you finish the question!"

Draco smirked as he stood up. "Will you marry me?" he whispered.

She was already nodding emphatically by the time all of his words were out. "Yes," she repeated. "Yes, I'll marry you!"

Those were officially the greatest words anyone had ever spoken to him.

He had to stop himself from saying, "Really?" for fear that she might have already changed her mind. So instead, he stood up, placed the ring gently on her finger, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

Ginny broke out in an "Aww!" and reached for Hermione as soon as Draco had released her, throwing her arms around her tightly. "Hermione! You're getting married! This is marvelous! Isn't this marvelous, Harry? Ron?"

Harry cleared his throat. "It's uh…it's…"

"It's bloody _wrong_, that's what it is!" Ron exclaimed. He glanced over at Ginny, who had already started for him, and warned, "Ginny, don't you _dare_ touch me."

"Then _be nice_," she said through clenched teeth.

Ron scowled. He glanced from his sister, over to Hermione, who was glancing at both him and Harry, as if desperately awaiting their stamp of approval.

"Hermione," Harry said. He hesitated, as if trying to decide what he should or should not say. Finally, he settled on, "We're happy for you. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, hugging him. When she pulled away and glanced expectedly at Ron.

Ron sighed in defeat. "Yes, we're _both_ happy for you, Hermione."

Hermione broke into a grin and threw her arms around Ron. "I know you're lying, but thank you for at least pretending."

"Anytime," he grumbled. When the hug ended, he quickly looked away, his face flushed.

Draco reached out and took Hermione's hand. "I already promised you I would take good care of her," he said to both of the boys. "This only ensures that I will be able to do it for the rest of our lives."

Both Harry and Ron seemed to accept that – as much as they could, anyway. They both just kind of nodded uncomfortably and stared down at the floor.

Mrs. Granger, who – along with Mr. Granger – was grinning from ear to ear, piped up, saying, "Who wants some cake?"

As everyone around them began to chatter and Mrs. Granger began distributing slices of birthday cake, Draco and Hermione exchanged a smile.

"Well what do you know," she said quietly, staring down at the ring on her finger. "Wishes really _do _come true."

Draco chuckled. He leaned in closely to her and whispered in her ear, "Happy birthday, Granger."

------

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Luna left late that night by floo, after another round of teary goodbyes. Ginny and Luna had congratulated the couple multiple times on their engagement, while Harry and Ron were considerably quiet about the whole thing. Draco was certain that neither of them approved of the engagement, but neither of them were about to rain on her parade. So they both put on fake smiles, wished her good luck and hugged her goodbye.

It was nearing midnight as Draco and Hermione sat outside, cuddling on the porch swing. Hermione rested her head on Draco's shoulder and held her hand out in front of her, once again admiring her ring.

"We should be sleeping right now," she said. "We have an early flight tomorrow."

"I'm not very tired," Draco said, placing an arm over her shoulders. "I'd much rather just sit here with you."

Hermione nodded. "I was just thinking the same thing." Suddenly, her head shot up. "What is _that_?" she asked, pointing straight ahead.

Draco glanced in the direction she was pointing and saw a bright, glowing purple blob flying toward them. He squinted at it, trying to make out what it could be. It wasn't until it was only a few feet away that he realized, "It's…an owl."

Sure enough, the purple bird flew straight over to them and dropped an envelope into Hermione's lap. It then circled over their heads a couple of times before finally perching on the armrest next to Draco.

They glanced at the bird curiously. "What the hell kind of owl is _that?"_ Draco asked. He reached out slowly to touch it, but it lurched its head forward and nipped his finger before he could.

"Son of a – it _bit_ me!" Draco hissed, quickly pulling his finger away and examining it.

Hermione looked as though she was trying not to laugh. She gave him a sympathetic look that didn't look all that genuine. "You'll live," she assured him, patting him on the back. She glanced down at the envelope in her hand.

"What is that?" Draco asked, ignoring the throbbing pain in his finger.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. But it's addressed to both you and me. And the return address is…hmm." She paused. "That's funny. The return address is _this _address."

Draco glanced at it in confusion. "Did your parents send us a letter from inside the house?" he joked.

Hermione ripped open the envelope and pulled out the parchment that had been tucked inside. She unfolded it carefully and gaped at it with wide eyes. "It's a letter. And it's in _my_ handwriting."

She exchanged a shocked glance with Draco, before proceeding to read the letter aloud:

**"_Dearest Hermione and Draco – assuming that you are together right now,_**

**_You are probably wondering how it is possible that you have received this letter from me. Well, there is a simple explanation, really. Meet Phineas, Draco's birthday present to me. Phineas is what is called an "inter-dimensional messenger owl". They are very rare birds, so as you can imagine he cost a pretty knut. Draco assured me that I am worth it, but I think he mainly bought him for me so that I would stop all of the whining I've been doing since I left your world six months ago. Call me crazy, but I miss you both terribly, and I'm just dying to know how you both are doing._**

**_Phineas is a truly remarkable bird – he can travel to any dimension to deliver mail, just so long as he possesses something that connects to the one he needs to get to. In this case, that something would be your shirt that you gave me, Hermione. As you can most likely see, a piece of the fabric is attached to his collar. I didn't want to ruin your shirt, so I just detached the tag from the inside of it, and used that instead. I really like that shirt, by the way! Pink is most _definitely_ our color, isn't it?_**

**_Anyway, I'm writing to you today because as it is my birthday, I am assuming it is yours as well, Hermione. So I wanted to wish you a happy one, and I just wanted to say that I hope that you have been given everything you wanted – I know that _I_ have. I am thrilled with being given the opportunity to still keep in contact with you both. And with that said, I am hoping you will write me back as soon as possible. Phineas will remain with you until you've responded. Just tie the letter to his leg and send him on his way. He does not need any instructions – he knows exactly where to find me. And since it's a piece of _your_ shirt he has around his collar, he will always be able to find _you_ as well, no matter where you may be._**

**_I must be going now – Draco is waiting for me to come to bed. I hope you are both doing well, and I hope to hear back from you soon._**

**_Love, Hermione_**

**_Oh yes, and P.S. - be careful of Phineas. He likes to bite_."**

Draco scoffed. "No kidding," he mumbled.

Hermione set the letter down in her lap. "I can't believe it! She has found a way to still communicate with us!"

"Actually," Draco said, "it was the other _me_ who figured out a way to still communicate with us. I'm not surprised – he's a smart guy."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Wow, you're even egotistical when it comes to the _other_ you."

Draco smirked. "Admit it – you love my egotism."

"No," she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "I just love _you_." She stood up from the porch swing and walked over to Phineas, who hopped right onto her arm as she approached him. And he didn't bite her.

Draco glared at the bird as it stared up at Hermione with what almost looked like affection. Stupid bird.

"I'm going to go write her back," Hermione said. "And then I'm going to bed. You should go get some sleep as well."

"I suppose," Draco said with a sigh. He stood up, leaned over and gave Hermione a tender kiss. "Tell the other Granger I said hi."

"I will," she said. "Goodnight, Draco."

"Goodnight, Hermione," he said. As soon as she was gone, he looked down at his watch. It was now after midnight, meaning the new day had just begun.

In many ways, it would be the first day of the rest of his life.

* * *

_**The next day…**_

Draco stared out the airplane window at the ground below. Everything seemed so small and far away, almost as if it was all part of a different world completely.

So far, he didn't mind the flying too much – although it was a lot more annoying than flying on a broom, because he was stuck in a small, enclosed space with a lot of annoying people. He did appreciate the view from above, though, as he could never fly _that_ high up on his Quidditch broom.

Hermione, however, seemed to hate flying. He should have guessed that, seeing as though she had never been a fan of riding on brooms. But even though she couldn't see out the window (she had gladly offered him the window seat), it was very apparent that she could still _sense_ how high off the ground they were. And she didn't like it.

For fun, he nudged her and said, "Hey, Granger, we're _really_ high off the ground. Could you imagine what would happen if the plane just…fell out of the sky? Ouch."

She inhaled sharply, closing the book she'd been reading, and glared over at him. "Will you stop that? You're not scaring me."

Draco smirked. "Oh, come on, Granger. Try developing a little sense of humor. Honestly, teasing you is very entertaining for me, and right now I need all the entertainment I can get."

Hermione frowned slightly. "Are you regretting this?"

"If you mean being stuck in this claustrophobic box made out of heavy metal that just somehow magically floats through the air _without_ using actual magic, then…yes. But being here with _you_…not so much."

Hermione smiled as the pilot came over the intercom to announce that they would be landing shortly. She absentmindedly reached up and fingered the other Hermione's medallion, which she always wore around her neck now. Draco noted that she was also wearing the other Hermione's shirt - it seemed to have become her favorite.

He smiled, thinking about the other Hermione and the other Draco, together in their own world. He wondered how many other worlds were identical to his, and if he and Hermione were together in all of them. He wouldn't be surprised if they were. Something was telling him that they were meant to be together in _any_ world.

If someone had told him exactly one year ago that he would be here now, living in the Muggle world with Hermione Granger – his _fiancée _– whom he planned on spending the rest of his life with, he would have told that person that they were absolutely mad. But here he was, sitting next to the love of his life, holding her hand; about to start a whole new life – and he couldn't have felt more content. It all seemed so surreal to him, as though it were all just some elaborate dream – one he would wake up from, only to find that Hermione was still gone, and he was still very much alone.

But the world worked in mysterious ways, and this was no dream at all.

Beside him, Hermione chuckled. "It's funny," she said.

"_What's_ funny?" he asked, turning to her and squeezing her hand gently.

She shrugged. "_Life_ is funny. I mean, take _our_ lives, for instance. You and I come from completely different worlds. Who would have ever thought that we would be here right now, _together_...very much in love with one another?"

Draco smirked as he turned his head to glance back out the window as the plane gently touched down on the runway.

_Yes_, he thought to himself in satisfaction, _life is funny like that._

**The End**

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**Author's Note #2: **Ahh...so there it is. It's over - FINALLY! I was going to write some huge, long author's note, but I'm kind of pressed for time. I just wanted to address some things really quickly: 

**1**. Originally, this story was meant to be a tragedy. In other words, Hermione was not only dead, but I was going to have her STAY dead. The point of the other Hermione would have been for her to help him get over his grief, by him helping _her_. However, all of you really seemed to want the old Hermione back, and...well...to be honest, I didn't really want to keep her dead myself. I am a sucker for happy endings! And in the end, I'm glad I brought her back. I think both she AND Draco deserved it.

**2**. I apologize if Draco was most of the time out-of-character. I realize that I ended up making him pretty soft, which isn't always a cool thing to do. I tried real hard throughout the story to write him as a grieving character, without making the whole thing too mushy. Because Draco should _never_ be a mushy character, in my opinion. But I do have this need to redeem the poor boy and make him grow up and mature, that's why I wrote him the way I did. I'm no sure if it worked or not, but anyway...

**3**. Some of you have suggested I write a sequel to this. It's possible that I might, but only if I can come up with a decent enough plot for it. I would love to start writing another D/Hr fic, but I can't seem to come up with an idea that I didn't already use in _this_ story. But then, I also want to start writing original fiction. I have an account over at FictionPress, but have yet to upload anything. Hopefully I will be doing so in the near future.

**4**. And last but certainly not least, I positively adore each and every person who read and reviewed (or even read but _didn't_ review) this story. I had no idea it would have any sort of following at all, so you could say that I was pleasantly surprised, and I love you all for sticking with it until the end. So for one last time, I thank you all!

**lolagirl **

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